On Shaky Ground
by Lady Henrietta
Summary: An alternate version of Rapture: A rescue mission goes awry and the Cylons give Roslin a longterm problem. And what does it have to do with the lost tribe?
1. Complicated affairs

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel.

On Shaky Ground

Chapter 1: Complicated affairs

"If you're dead-set in throwing yourself into this mess, then I'm coming with you to make sure that you don't do anything dangerous," Adama had told Roslin bluntly. She had insisted on going with them mostly out of her own guilt. He was not about to let anything happen to her, so he accompanied them.

They had managed to find Hera. Athena had used her knowledge of the shuttles to cause their shuttle to read as carrying four Cylons instead of one Cylon and four humans. Once on board the vessel, she thrust her hand into the nearest console to look at ships schematics. Leading the way, Athena took them to the room with Hera.

Athena sneaked up behind the Number Eight looking after the child and knocked her out, quickly switching clothes with her. She embraced her daughter and then allowed Helo to do the same. Then she faced the others.

"Getting here was the easy part. Getting out, not so easy. We need to go out the way we came, but the whole ship is going to know we were here as soon as she," Athena paused to glance at the Eight, "wakes up."

Knowing that the route was precarious, Athena led the way with Helo holding Hera. Admiral Adama and President Roslin had come with them to see that the mission was successful. They quietly crept down the hallways of the Cylon vessel. Number Three suddenly stood in their way though as Athena turned the corner. She motioned for Helo to stop the others so that Number Three only saw her.

"And where are you off to, Eight?" Three inquired.

"I was just heading down to the shuttle bay to make sure everything was in order. According to our sensors, four Cylons docked, but I haven't noticed them being onboard yet," Athena hastily explained.

The plan seemed to be working as Three went off through another hallway. Athena led the way again with Helo and Hera following directly behind her. As they reached the shuttle, Roslin suggested that the family of three enter first. As they did so, Adama felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see a Leoben model.

"It seems we've caught ourselves a couple of spies," he said smoothly.

Roslin turned to look at the family in the shuttle and shouted, "Go, just go!" before she and Adama were knocked unconscious by a pulse device.

Helo started to pull away from the vessel with Athena looking back at it, holding Hera on her lap. As they neared _Galactica_, the woman stood and set Hera down. "Helo, take her to _Galactica_ with you. I'm taking the Cylon ship that Bulldog used and going back. We can't just leave the admiral and the president there," she pointed out.

Her husband frowned as they neared the docking bay. "I understand going back for the Old Man, now that we know he never knew the truth about what happened to Hera, but it was the president's fault."

"Leaving her there doesn't make anything right. I'm going back," Athena said as their shuttle docked.

She hurried over to the Cylon ship and was gone again, leaving Helo to explain things to Colonel Tigh, who was on his way to the docking bay. Flying the Cylon ship made the element of surprise easier for her. Once she was back in the Cylon docking bay, she hurried quietly through the corridors, having a suspicion on where they might have taken the admiral and the president.

Adama woke on a scarlet couch, in a small Spartan room. He looked down to see that he donned a white bathrobe and that his uniform had been neatly folded off to the side of the couch. He also noticed that the president was nowhere to be found. As he changed back into his uniform, he tried to think what the Cylons might have done to him, but could come up with no answers, aside from feeling groggy. _I have to get out of here and find Laura_, he decided as he tried the door. He sighed heavily, finding it to be locked.

Roslin was not so fortunate. She woke on the floor of what appeared to be a cell, with electric bars keeping her in place. And she was not alone. What woke her up was a Leoben's foot making contact with her lower ribs three times. She inhaled sharply and sat up, wanting to be fully aware of where she was. When she tried to get to her feet, he backhanded her and her hand had blood on it when she pressed it to her sore nose.

He was about to hit her again when a Brother Cavil walked in. "That's enough. You were supposed to wake her up, not beat her up."

Leoben glared mercilessly at the woman in front of him. "Do you know how painful and terrifying it is to be thrown out of an airlock? I do!" he growled.

Cavil turned the bars off. "So do I, but this is not how we do things," he mentioned.

At first, Roslin was relieved that Cavil had stopped the violence. But as she watched him and noticed a crafty look in his eyes, she felt her stomach tightening from fear of what he might be capable of himself. He dismissed Leoben and she worried more. Then he handed her a hospital gown.

"Put it on," he instructed calmly.

When she stared at him incredulously he pulled out a handgun. "Put it on."

She had to change in front of him and did so with her back to him, allowing a moment to pretend that she was alone. When she faced him, he still had the gun pointed at her. "Walk," he said calmly again, pointing her in a direction.

The room he led her to made her skin crawl. It was dimly lit, with metal walls and floors like everywhere else. But there was a suspicious chair under a bright lamp near the center of the room, and strange little devices around it. Her first thought was that it was a dentist's chair. Her mind changed when she saw a Number Three and a Leoben enter the room.

"Go on, sit," Three instructed.

Roslin sat in the chair and laid back, knowing that whatever they had planned was about to be truly unpleasant. Leoben grabbed her hand and shoved metal devices shaped like fingers on her. They had wires leading to a console that Cavil stood at. A sickening feeling formed in the back of her throat when she noticed the pleasure in the glance that Cavil now gave to Leoben as the Cylon placed the restraints on her wrists and ankles

"This is how we do things here," Cavil mentioned. "Madame President, where is Earth?" he asked her.

"I don't know," she spat.

Almost immediately she felt a sharp, painful jolt of electricity flood her body, but she did not cry out. She would not give them the satisfaction of knowing that they were causing her pain. "Bad answer. Shall we try again?"

"It won't work, because I still don't know," she stated sardonically.

The energy used on the second burst had been increased, but she still would not make a sound. She was having trouble focusing on the room around her though. A few moments later, she suspected that she had blacked out because another Three seemed to appear out of nowhere with a cart of syringes, vials, and other medical paraphernalia.

Roslin turned her head as the Cylon tightened the tourniquet that she had not noticed as being on her arm before, and injected a clear liquid into one of the veins on her arm. "This is more effective than shocking her, and she'll still be useful to us. Obviously she's not the one who knows were Earth is, but she has another purpose," Three pointed out.

Everything began to look fuzzy and Roslin felt numb from head to toe. Trying hard to focus, she attempted to listen as Three kept speaking, catching parts of what was said as something else was injected into her vein, but staying conscious proved more difficult than she had realized.

"She's useful…"

"Cylon DNA that saved her…"

"we can use it for our advantage…"

"hybrid would be possible, but she's not going to…"

Roslin blinked as she watched them prepare a few more syringes, but they did not seem interested in her arm anymore as she heard part of what Three said, "should help speed up the process…" before blacking out again.

"can't seem to kill him off…"

"We had to get his DNA before he woke up…"

"have to send him back or we're all dead…"

Roslin tuned them out for a moment. _Are they talking about Bill? What's he got to do with all of this? I hope he's alright_, Roslin pondered as a bitter liquid was shoved down her throat.

She lost consciousness again and woke to their voices, but was still only able to catch part of what was said. "Adjustments are almost complete… process working… term should be normal for a human after this point…," _What process? What have they done?_ She tuned them out again when she realized that she had no feeling anywhere. It was not the numb sensation, but one where she was a disembodied head.

Her sharp intake of breath caused the others to turn to her. "What the hell have you done?" she seethed.

"Relax, you'll get the feeling back in your limbs when some of the drugs where off. We do need you to walk though," Number three stated, freeing Roslin from the restraints. After a few minutes, feeling seeped back into her arms and legs and she sat up.

It felt as though her body had gone to sleep, but as she was able to stand, the numbness wore off and she nearly collapsed from the pain she felt all over. "As I said, you have the feeling back now. Walk," Three ordered.

They led her back to the room with the cell and dragged her inside it, locking the bars in place. Then they all appeared to have walked out. Thinking that she was alone, Roslin quickly changed from the hospital gown back into her conservative warm clothing. She turned and gasped to see Cavil again. He had a rope in his hands as he let the bars down. She gulped when he entered the cell and grabbed her hands.

She was shoved to the ground and felt the pain from her shoulder all the way down her back. He tied her hands together and then tied the rope to one of the lower bars. "Pity we have to keep you alive for now," he muttered as he left her and brought the bars up again.

Now that she truly was alone, she allowed herself the luxury of tears and sobbed until sleep claimed her.


	2. A rescue

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel. Minor spoiler for "Rapture."

Chapter 2: A rescue

On a personal mission to help them, Athena walked through the halls as if she had done it on a regular basis, so as not to look out of place. She walked over to a computer console and shoved her hand into the wiry liquid. Having learned where both Adama and Roslin were, she headed first his room. She unlocked the door by way of a small liquid console on the wall, and gasped sharply as she felt a hand encircle her neck.

"Admiral, it's me. I know where Roslin is. I'm trying to get both of you out of here," Athena squeaked.

He released her and stepped out into the hall. "I'm sorry about that. I wasn't sure what to think."

"It's alright. Now follow me, sir. It's this way and we don't have much time," she advised.

The door was not far and once again Athena unlocked it. Slowly Adama's eyes adjusted to the dark room. A glow emanated from the bars on a cage in the middle. As he neared he cage, Athena found the console to shut the electric field off. Having acquired a weapon from the raptor before returning to the ship, she blasted the lock off and Adama rushed in to find Roslin on the floor. He inhaled sharply as he thought guilty, _I should have been here sooner. Oh deities, what have they done to her?_

He saw the bruises and blood on her face. Quickly he untied her and scooped her un in his arms. She did not wake and he stepped out into the hall with her. He and Athena walked as hastily as they could back to the docking bay. As they reached the ship that Athena had used, he stopped dead in his tracks.

"Three of us are not going to fit in that thing," he observed.

They heard the alarm sound. "I'll see if Helo still has the raptor," Athena stated.

On the second try she heard a response from him. "Helo here. I'm coming back. Hera's with Doc Cottle," he relayed.

"You better hurry before they start shooting at us," she advised.

Adama boarded Helo's ship with Roslin while Athena used Bulldog's Cylon ship. A blur of metallic Cylons clanked down the corridors. Not bothering to wait for anyone else to show up, they headed back toward _Galactica_. Adama did not stop to greet Tigh in the docking bay, but simply sauntered directly to Life Station with the president.

Roslin felt as though she was emerging from a deep pond. Slowly blinking in the bright lights, her first thoughts were of the Cylon experiments. She sat up as quickly as she could, moving her wrists to check for the restraints. Then she looked around frantically for an escape rout.

"Easy Laura, your safe now," a calm rumbling voice to her left told her.

Two strong hands gently grasped her shoulders and she looked up into the face of someone she was worried that she would never see again. "Bill, how did you get here? Are you alright?" Then she paused in her surprise and frowned. "Or is all this another Cylon trick?"

He sat down on the bed next to her and drew her into a warm hug, holding her for a while. "Forgive me for not finding you sooner," he whispered.

"Oh Bill, it wasn't your fault," she conveyed. Tears welled up in her eyes and she grabbed onto him tightly. "I was so scared that they'd done something horrible to you," she admitted to no one else but him.

After a moment she regained her composure and tried to turn to put her legs down, but it suddenly occurred to her that something was drastically wrong. "I can't feel my legs! I could when they led me back to my cell, but I can't now!"

Cottle rushed over. "Now don't you go panicking. You're going to be fine. Some of whatever the hell they gave you has latent side affects that don't hit until a few hours later. It should all wear off by tomorrow though."

She turned and faced Adama. "What did the Cylons do to you?"

"I don't know exactly. I woke up in a bathrobe, but the room was locked. For some reason they weren't planning on interrogating me very quickly. Sharon came back for us and unlocked the door. Then we found you and brought you back here," he explained.

Roslin still seemed to be steadying herself, if only on the inside. Adama held one of her hands in his and she let a ghost of a smile slip through. "I overheard them talking, and I think it was about you. They said they had to send 'him' back or they would all be dead. I think they meant you."

Cottle cleared his throat. "I hate to interrupt you two, but I need you to tell me as much as you remember so that I know what to look for. Laura, I don't know what all the Cylons did to you and it would help. What little I know about the drugs they gave you I learned from a blood test."

Adama watched as she closed her eyes for a moment, finding some inner strength. He squeezed her hand tighter and it seemed to help. Then she faced the doctor. "Leoben kicked me in the ribs before he backhanded me. They injected me with who knows what so that I couldn't feel anything for a while, and I blacked out several times. I'm sorry that I'm not more helpful than that."

"It's enough to let me know to check for broken ribs," Cottle replied. "You're going to spend the next couple of days here, and there's no telling me otherwise. Got it?"

She sighed and nodded. As the doctor walked over to another patient, the admiral stood. "I need to get back to CIC so you can rest. Saul told me as I was walking here with you that the Cylons just jumped away."

"I think they're afraid of you," she teased. He smiled back and then left. She closed her eyes and lied back, trying to remember better times.

After two days Cottle dismissed her because she was too ornery to keep as patient. Thankful to return to her job, she plunged into her files and it only took her half a day to catch up on two days of missed work. Even Tory was impressed at her efficiency. However, the president and the admiral had hardly spoken. She met with the Quorum, Lee, and everyone else with the exception of the admiral.

He had tried to contact her, but only Tory had picked up her phone line lately. Adama set the phone down and paced the room. "She's avoiding me and I don't understand why," he relayed to Lee, who had dropped by to update his father on some of the new pilots.

"You could talk to her after the meeting in a couple of hours. She's supposed to meet with several of us to find out how the fleet is doing on supplies," Lee reminded.

Roslin sat at her desk, pretending to flip through files in order to avoid her aide's gaze, having told the president about the admiral's calls. _It's not that I don't want to see him, or that I'm upset with him. He's the one who can see right through me and right now I just want to forget about the Cylons and get back to work_, she mulled over in her mind. However, her nights would not allow her to ignore what had happened. Nightmares interrupted her sleep frequently.

The meeting for the status of the fleet began, and they locked gazes for a moment. In that brief look, she knew that he had learned what he needed to know. The meeting droned on, but all she could think about was the reality that she could not hide anymore. Even as she tried to sip her tea, the room was beginning to close in on her.

He watched her closely, noticing a distant look in here eyes as the others talked. No one else in the room seemed to notice that her hand shook when she set the empty teacup back on its saucer, causing it to rattle slightly.

"Madame President, if you don't mind, you and I have a private meeting to discuss strategies scheduled shortly, and I'd prefer not to run too late," Adama remarked, hoping that she would go along with it

"Yes, of course, Admiral," Roslin stated as she watched the others leave.

Her hands still shook as she set the teacup down and he reached across her desk to take one of her hands in his. "Laura, are you alright?" he questioned, concern showing in his deep blue eyes.

She took a shaky deep breath and squeezed his hand back. "I hate not knowing exactly what they did to me, and not being able to find out because it's not detectable. And I've been experiencing flashbacks, nightmares," she admitted.

"When were you planning to see Cottle about this?" he gently probed her.

Standing, she crossed her arms and sighed. "What can he do, give me chamalla for it? I don't think that he can fix this."

"How long has this been going on?" he asked as he stood and met her gaze.

"Since we came back to _Galactica_," she replied quietly. Then she began to fiddle with her hands. "I hate this, Bill. I feel like I'm afraid of my own shadow. This is… is appalling. I have humanity to look after and I don't have time for problems like this!"

He wrapped his hands around both of hers and spoke calmly. "Laura, tell Tory that you're taking the rest of the day off. You've been trying to lose yourself in work since we got back and you need a break," he attempted to persuade her.

She closed her eyes and sighed. "I just want to go to the only place around here where I can find some peace of mind," _which would be your couch_, she added mentally.

"Is that my couch?" he joked.

"Did I say that aloud?" she asked with a smirk.

Putting protocol aside, he pulled her into a friendly hug. "No, but you didn't have to. I know you. Why don't we head to my quarters and I'll find you some tea that you might actually enjoy?" he offered.

She slipped out of his embrace and smiled gratefully. "I think that might be a good idea. I'm not getting much done in the shape that I'm in," she relayed.

After she had spoken with Tory, Roslin and Adama headed to his quarters. He made her another cup of tea and they sat on his couch. He let her sit in silence for a while, waiting for her to speak first. She set the teacup down on the coffee table and leaned back on the couch, shedding her jacket and closing her eyes briefly.

"We never really talked about Hera. I made the decision that I thought was best for the fleet and the civilians at the time, and it's now apparent to me that I made the wrong choice," she tried to explain. "You can yell at me if you want."

He shook his head. "It wasn't the best decision, and I object to removing a child from its parents, but I'm not going to dress you down over it now because it won't change anything. You didn't beat me over the head with the mistakes I've made regarding Bulldog," he pointed out. They sat in comfortable silence for a while.

"I haven't been getting much sleep," she finally relayed. "In my nightmares I see pieces of what actually happened, but then other things happen that are much worse than the truth. I've been catching a lot of ten minute naps."

"We'll fix it," he told her matter-of-factly.

She smirked and eyed him incredulously. "And how do you intend to do that?"

"By finding a way to help you feel safe again. Just take a nap for a while and we'll talk more later," he suggested.

Yawning, she slipped out of her shoes and pulled her feet up onto the couch. "That sounds like good idea."

"I hope so," he mentioned as he watched her curl up on one end. He laid a gray blanket over her and sat at his desk to read a few files.

She felt someone rubbing her shoulders. Opening her eyes, she felt disoriented at first, not being in her bed on Colonial One. She sat up immediately and turned to face Adama. He watched her with a perplexed expression. _Were you really sleeping that deeply that you forgot where you were? I should've gotten you out of that meeting sooner_, he mused.

His expression caused her to giggle, and once she began it felt too good to stop easily. Finally she took a deep breath and faced him again. "I suppose I really was tired. I didn't mean to laugh, but the look you were giving me was hilarious," she remarked.

He smiled genuinely and joined her on the couch as she scooted over and folded up the blanket. _You sound like yourself again_. "How do you feel?"

"Much better, thank you. I really needed that. How long was I asleep?" she inquired, her eyes darting to the floor to find her shoes.

"A good four hours. I decided to wake you and see if you were hungry," he mentioned.

Sliding into her shoes, she faced him again. "I am a bit hungry if you don't mind."

He rose and returned with a small bowl of algae paste. "I know it's not the most appetizing stuff-"

"But it's what we've got right now, so I'm not complaining," she interjected, taking the spoon that he offered.

When she had finished the green mush, he glanced at his watch. "I've been here quite a while, haven't I?" she probed.

"Yes, but I don't remember saying that it was a problem," he stated.

"I've imposed on you enough lately and I should be going. If I stay here much longer, you might to have to start charging rent. And then you might as well charge library fees for all the books I've borrowed from you," she joked.

He put a hand on hers and gently took the bow from her. "You took the day off, and you're not imposing. In fact, I've got a boxing match with Lee and I wanted to know if you'd like to come too," he offered.

"Are you sure you want me there?" she asked with a smile, finally noticing that he wore his gym clothes.

Setting the bowl down on the coffee table, he took both of her hands in his and pulled her to her feet. "Of course I want my ringside coach there," he joked.

She giggled again. "How can I refuse an offer like that?"

They entered the gym later, noticing that Lee was already standing in the ring with his boxing gloves. The commander raised an eyebrow and glanced between the president and his father as the two walked up. "It's not business, Lee. I've just brought a fellow boxing fan with me," Adama told him.

Lee nodded at the president and she smiled back. "Just as long as I'm boxing with you. Madame President, somehow I've got this feeling that you could kick my ass," he joked.

Roslin laughed heartily and shook her head. "No Lee, I'm just an observer."

Once both men were prepared with gloves on, the match was about to begin and Adama had the feeling that he had forgotten something. Roslin walked close to the ropes, knowing what he had forgotten. "Bill, I'll take your glasses and your tags," she commented, reaching to slide the chain over his neck and then carefully remove his glasses before folding them in her hand. There was a pause and the two shared smiles again. "And you tell me I'm the one who needs a day off," she teased.

She stepped back and the match began. Father and son were both precision boxers and Roslin kept her eyes on their moves with interest. Circling the ring from the outside, she continued to watch the match. Lee suddenly surprised the older man and hit him in the jaw. Roslin caught Adama's eye and mouthed "left hook." His timing was better than his son's and he managed to win the match with her suggestion.

After a few more rounds, both men were breathing heavily. Lee wiped his face with a towel and looked at the president. "I wasn't even fighting you and you still managed to kick my ass. I know you gave him a hint," he goaded.

Putting her hands up in defense and sighed. "Alright, you caught me. He told me that I was his ringside coach," she admitted.

"And my secret weapon," Adama mentioned, walking up behind her. "What do you think of our gym?"

She glanced around at the equipment and faced them. "It looks efficient and it seems like a friendly place. I might even start coming here myself."

Lee raised an eyebrow at the light conversation between the two as they exited the gym. Adama was heading to his quarters with Roslin following. "And the smell?" he inquired with a smirk.

"It's very unique, and it's a sign that people actually use the gym," she responded tactfully.

He chuckled. "That's a nice way of saying that it smells like the inside of an old shoe."

At that comment she giggled. Lee eyed the two curiously. "I'm going to hit the showers. Dad, the next time we box, I get to bring a friend too. It's bad enough that you can beat me normally. With her it's even worse," he paused, "no offense, Madame President."

"None taken," she responded.

Lee walked off and Adama stopped with Roslin in front of his quarters. "I'm going get a shower. I have some files I brought while you were still asleep that you might want to look at," he began.

She smirked as they walked through the hatch. "You're just trying to keep me here because you know that if I go back to my ship, I won't relax."

"You're darn right about that," he stated as he closed the door.

They headed over to his desk and he handed her a blue folder. "What do we have here?" she probed.

"You were in Life Station at the time, but the star near the planet we were orbiting exploded. I thought you might want to look at some of the data that we collected," he explained.

"Yes, thank you," she responded as he left the room and continued in the direction of the shower.

She had thoroughly perused the file, reacquainting herself with the finer details when he emerged from his room in his uniform. "What do you think of it?" he asked her when she looked up.

"It's all very interesting, but it doesn't make as much sense as it ought to. I think we may have something more to help us chart our course to Earth, but so much of this is confusing still," she admitted as he joined her on the couch.

/"Maybe it was a road sign, showing what we are going to next," he suggested./

"What I can't believe is that we actually have Baltar back. The question is what to do with him," she mentioned.

"Throwing him out of an airlock doesn't sound half bad," the admiral commented with a smirk.

Roslin chuckled and shook her head. "Somehow I don't think it would be that simple. He has information that we need."

"Then we'll just have to-" the telephone interrupted him. He stood and walked over to it, lifting it from the wall. "Adama. Yes, she's- no, you can resume that tomorrow. I'm not unreasonable, she's taking the day off. You can badger her tomorrow, but you're leaving her alone today. I'm not moving on- no, I don't see how that would- not today. Goodbye." He took a deep breath when he hung up the phone.

The president raised an eyebrow and looked over at him with sympathy. "Was that Tory?"

"Yes, your aide saw fit to lecture me on kidnapping you and getting you back to your ship within reasonable time. I told her that you're staying here and she's not to bother you until tomorrow," he explained.

Roslin stood and set the files on his desk. "That's very charitable of you, Bill, but I probably should talk to her myself."

He shook his head. "You're on _Galactica_ tonight, period. I'll get dinner and then we'll find you some guest quarters."

She thought for a moment and agreed that a full day's rest would help. After dinner, however, she dozed off on the couch again and he did not have the heart to wake her. Covering her again with the gray blanket, he let her rest and headed off to his own bed.

(My thanks to Ethereal-Journey, carolann, C and L 4eva, Mariel3, Sammy-Girl001, and Izabella Black for reviewing :D)


	3. Strange bedfellows

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel. This chapter contains spoilers from "Taking a Break from All Your Worries."

Chapter 3: Strange bedfellows

As Adama reached over to turn off his alarm, something did not feel right. He had been on his side all night, but it was more than that. He felt warm and when he moved his arm, soft wisps of something came with it. His eyes flew open when he felt a hand press against his chest. Mortification washed over him as he noticed Roslin facing him, yet still asleep.

_How the hell did this happen? I thought she was on the couch. She's fully dressed too_, he observed before clearing his throat. "Laura," he tried to wake her gently. She only curled up closer to him. "Laura," he tried again louder.

"Mm, five more minutes," she mumbled.

He took a deep breath. "Laura, open your eyes."

At his tone, she followed his directions and found herself starring directly into his eyes. "Good morning, Bill," she stated with a smile.

_She still doesn't get it_. "Good morning Laura," he returned. "Do you know where you are?"

Stretching as her eyes took in her surroundings, she suddenly sat up and got to her feet. "Oh my. I can explain. I dreamed that the Cylons were interrogating me again and their last strategy was to blow up _Galactica_. And I was alone. When I woke up, I had to know that it was just a nightmare. I know it sounds childish, but-"

He put up a hand dismissively and stood. "It's alright. I understand and I can think of worse ways to wake up. Next time just warn me," he conveyed with a wry grin.

"I'm glad you're taking this so well," she paused and glanced down at yesterday's clothes. "I've got a small problem. If I walk out of your cabin wearing yesterday's clothes, it will look very suspicious."

Sighing, he thought for a moment. "You could call Tory and have her bring over a few files. Underneath she could have something else for you folded in a bag," he suggested.

"I think that could work. I should have thought this over last night before I fell asleep on your couch," she added.

"It'll be fine. You need to use my shower?" he offered.

"I'll be quick," she replied.

She called Tory while Adama was taking a shower and the aide arrived just in time to see him walk out into the living room. Roslin accepted the files and the dress suit with a gracious smile. Adama stepped aside to allow Roslin to change in the bathroom, but Tory spoke before she could change.

"Madame President, I don't advise that you repeat this situation any time soon. Rumors of a possible affair between the two of you could be problematic for your position," the aide lectured.

Roslin sighed and glanced over at Adama, then back to Tory. "I fell asleep on the couch and the admiral forgot to wake me. What's on today's agenda?" she inquired, diverting Tory's earlier comments.

"You planned to question Baltar," the aide answered plainly.

"An interview with Baltar, my second favorite thing for breakfast next to algae," Roslin remarked wryly on her way to the bathroom.

Adama chuckled and shook his head at Tory's frown. "It's going to be a long day," he told her. "We need to find humor wherever we can. I'll be behind the screen with Saul and Cottle," he added when Roslin emerged from the bathroom.

The phone rang and Adama answered it. After a brief conversation, he hung up and looked at Roslin. "Saul just called. You're not going to believe this, but there's an extra compartment on that Cylon ship that Bulldog used. Saul found out from the chief because a tall, blonde stowaway crawled out of it."

"Is she a spy? Where is she now?" the president inquired.

"She's in the brig and she claims that she wants to be on our side," the admiral relayed.

"Let's deal with Baltar first," Roslin recommended.

It was a quiet walk to the brig. /Roslin entered the cell and handed Baltar his glasses. Then she lit a cigar and hands it to him. "Touche, Madame President," Baltar responded/.

/Roslin continued. "I have no wish to see you suffer."/

/"Why are you doing this?" he asked/.

/"For your own good, and it's nothing compared to what my people were subjected to in the jail cells on New Caprica… None of us are enjoying this, so tell us what we want to know… Did you tell anyone about the defense mainframe?" she interrogated/.

/"Lies, all lies," Baltar protested. "I did not collude in the genocide of my own people."/

/After showing him pictures of victims and threatening to throw him out of the nearest airlock, Roslin told the marines to take Baltar back to his cell. She entered Adama's quarters with Cottle and Tigh. "You gave it your best shot," the admiral commented/.

/She placed her head in her hands/. "Gentlemen, we need more ideas."

/"Buzzard still wouldn't talk," Tigh interjected/.

/Roslin slumped back in her seat, taking a drink of water as Adama and Tigh began to pace. Then Adama stopped and faced her. "There is one thing," he began. "The military once ran an experimental interrogation program; creates anxiety so intense that the person things he's going to die. But it's dangerous."/

She looked at him wide-eyed. /"Are you telling me you have these drugs on board _Galactica_?"/ He nodded and she took a deep breath. "And why didn't you tell me about this sooner?"

"It was a military issue," Adama stated.

Roslin stood and crossed her arms. "Well gentlemen, then it seems we have work to do."

She and the admiral questioned Baltar with Cottle standing by, as well as Tigh and a few marines. Baltar only seemed to talk about the final five Cylons as he panicked. Cottle eventually stopped the procedure because it was becoming too physically dangerous to Baltar.

/The arduous day had finally come to its close and Adama sat in a chair while Roslin rested on his bed, nursing a headache. "I told him I didn't get any satisfaction in seeing his pain, but the truth is I was willing to let him endure a great deal of suffering, in order to get what I wanted. It wasn't some intelligence, some truth. I wanted a genuine admission of guilt," Roslin stated/.

/He sighed and looked away for a moment. "That's something that you're not gonna get from someone like Baltar. He doesn't see himself that way. It's not who he is. In his eyes, he's the victim, not the criminal. It's not too late for him just disappear."/

/She touched his arm lightly. "We can't do that; for all his crimes he's one of us," she conveyed/.

/"So what happens next?" he questioned/. "I thought you wouldn't mind throwing him out an airlock."

/"We give him his trial," she replied with a rational smile/.

She began to doze off and he chuckled in spite of the grave situation and the intense day. "You're making a bad habit of sleeping in my bed, you know," he teased.

"If you minded, I wouldn't be here right now," she answered with a yawn.

He smirked and rose. "I'll take the couch then," he mentioned before deciding to cover her with a blanket before leaving the room.

(My thanks to csiAngel, carolann, Sammy-Girl001, Mariel3, Izabella Black, and Ethereal-Journey for reviewing :D)


	4. Impossible scenario

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel.

Chapter 4: Impossible scenario

Nearly a month had passed since Adama and Roslin had attempted to rescue Hera. Adama had been needed in CIC almost as soon as he had rolled out of bed that morning. After being informed of a few problems that the pilots were having with the fuel, he returned to his quarters for his meeting with the president at 0800. He had already been informed that Colonial One had docked before he had arrived.

Opening the hatch, he was surprised to find Roslin curled up on his couch. He walked over to her and rested a hand on her shoulder. "Laura, are you alright?"

When she faced him, he noticed dark circles around her eyes. Her face seemed washed out and she moved slowly to sit up. "I don't feel well," she admitted.

He felt her forehead. "You don't feel warm. You think you might've picked up something? Maybe you should see Cottle to make sure you haven't caught what the Sagittarians have," he recommended.

"That's not what I'm worried about," she remarked, looking away.

Adama sat down next to her, concern showing in his eyes. "Laura."

She reached for his hand and held onto it as if it was a lifeline. "I'm afraid that the cancer might be back. This started a couple of days ago. I can't keep food down in the mornings, yet I end up snacking on the stuff in the afternoon. But I've been feeling lightheaded and I end up taking naps. I don't know what's wrong."

He placed his free hand under her chin so that she faced him. "Then we'll find out together."

She gave him a light smile and they headed to Life Station. They waited pensively after she had spoken to Cottle and he had done several tests. Cottle eyed the two suspiciously as Roslin and Adama stood next to each other, subtly holding hands, after he had analyzed the results.

"There's something I have to ask you two," he paused and they nodded. "Are you sleeping together?" he questioned.

The other two exchanged worried glances and Roslin swallowed hard, not certain how to answer. Adama saved her the trouble. "Not like you're thinking, Jack. It's been only sleeping, and not very often," he admitted, his stony reserve showing nothing of his internal discomfort.

Cottle's brow furrowed as he looked through his data and Roslin interrupted his thoughts. "What's wrong with me might have something to do with whatever the Cylons did to me, since I can't remember parts of it."

He looked up at her with understanding. She had just given him the piece he had been missing. First he looked to the Admiral. "Bill, did you ever figure out what they did to you over there?"

The admiral shook his head. "I woke up in a bathrobe and that was it."

Sighing heavily, Cottle faced Roslin. "Did the Cylons mention anything about using someone else' DNA on you?"

She closed her eyes for a moment, drawing back her clouded memories. "Yes, but they didn't say whose, or maybe they did, but I didn't hear it," she recalled. Then she looked him directly in the eyes. "Jack, stop dragging this out and tell us what is going on please."

He folded his hands and took a deep breath. "Laura, you're pregnant," he told her as gently as he could.

Roslin would have fallen if Adama had not caught her and helped her to sit down on the bed. "How?" she managed to ask.

"According to the tests, they used Bill's DNA on you, probably during one of those times when you blacked out," Cottle deduced.

With a sudden heavy feeling in the pit if his stomach, the admiral sat down next to the president and sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "This is my fault. I didn't find you soon enough," he uttered.

She put a hand on his knee and they faced each other. "No, Bill, if it's anyone's fault it's mine because we wouldn't have been over there if I had just left Hera with her biological parents," she reasoned. "Why would they do this though? Why are the two of us so important that they set up such an elaborate experiment? I wish I could remember more."

"Could this have something to do with the Cylon blood you have?" the admiral suggested.

Closing her eyes, she sighed. "I don't know." Then she turned to Cottle. "The question is what do we do now?"

Cottle sighed and walked over to her, handing her a list of nutritional requirements. "You made abortions illegal. However, these are circumstances that could hurt not only your position, but Bill's and I can't prove that the situation was caused by the Cylons. If you needed to bend the rules for-"

"Jack, what sort of example would I be setting if I broke my own rules? I know what problems this will cause, but I will not break the law we have set out to uphold," Roslin replied firmly.

"In that case, I'm telling you to eat as well as you can and I expect to see you every two weeks," Cottle instructed.

Roslin nodded and stood, followed by Adama. They left Life Station and headed back to his quarters. Trying to sort out the situation in their minds, they sat down silently on the couch. A few minutes later Lee walked in through the unlocked door, holding a file. "Here are some of the updates from our supplies, as well as how the colonists are doing," Lee stated, handing the file to Roslin.

She nodded. "Thank you, Commander."

At that point the younger man noticed that Roslin's right hand was joined with his father's left and they both seemed pensive about something. He could almost feel the layer of worry in the room. "What's wrong? Usually you two are looking over issues and discussing them. I'm not used to seeing both of you worried. I mean, it's not like anyone's pregnant, right?"

"Son, I think you'd better stop there," Adama interjected.

The smirk on Lee's face turned to total shock. "Oh… oh frak. Is that what this is about?"

Adama was about to tell him to leave when Roslin set the file down and placed her other hand on his knee. "If we explain now, then we can be done with it," she suggested.

"Fine," he responded flatly.

She took a deep breath and faced Lee. "Do you remember Hera's rescue a few weeks ago?" she inquired. He nodded and she continued. "Your father and I were captured by the Cylons. They apparently extracted DNA from him and interrogated me. The fact that my life had been saved by Cylon DNA seemed important to them and I think they were planning to keep me with them. They drugged me and I don't recall half of what they did to me because I blacked out for parts of it. What they have done is impregnate me with your father's DNA. We're trying to figure out what to do now."

Lee's brow furrowed as he looked at both of them and sighed. "I see. I'm not going to bother you two," he remarked before exiting.

Adama watched his son leave and returned to his own thoughts. _There has to be a solution to this. It would be difficult to explain to the whole fleet about the Cylon situation though, let alone what we were doing on that ship. There really is only one way to fix this_. He stood and moved so that he was in front of her. To her astonishment, he slowly knelt in front of her. "I can only see one way out of this," he began.

"I will not break my own rules," she argued.

He still had hold of her hand. Looking down at it for a moment, he rubbed circles in it. After he took a deep breath, he faced her. "That's not what I meant. Cottle has a point about not being able to clearly prove what we know the Cylons did. If I married you, then there wouldn't be too many questions."

She met his gaze and placed her other hand on his shoulder. "But there will still be questions. How will we explain the possible conflict of interest? People can do math you know," she reminded.

"They'll assume what they're going to assume; you can't change that. However, it would be better if they thought you and I were taking responsibility for our situation instead of having you pregnant out of wedlock and rumors flying all over about who the father is. That would be more damaging to your position. And as for a conflict of interest, the civilian government would look even more closely aligned with the military," he glanced away from her in a grimace because of his knee.

"I hope you don't plan to stay down there too much longer. It doesn't look very comfortable," she conveyed with a half-smile.

He smiled back and nodded. "I'm down here because I'm asking you to marry me. I know it might not be the best solution, and I know I don't have the best track record, being divorced but-"

"I had an affair with a married man, so your track record is probably better than mine," she told him wryly.

"Maybe this is a chance for both of us to do better. Laura Roslin, will you marry me?" he asked.

She read the uncertainty in his eyes, but she also saw how serious he was about the matter. Mentally she made two quick lists in her mind of pros and cons. To her surprise, she agreed with his rationale. Smiling warmly, she replied, "Yes. Now get up off the floor before you hurt yourself."

He rejoined her on the couch, still holding her hand. "How soon do you want to do this?"

"I would say a week at the latest," she answered.

(My thanks to carolann, Mariel3, and Izabella Black for reviewing :D)


	5. Teamwork

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel. Margaret Vestry is mine.

Chapter 5: Teamwork

Before there could be a wedding, Roslin had to explain the situation to Tory. "You wanted to see me, Madame President?" the aide asked, walking up to Roslin's desk.

"Yes, please have a seat," she paused as Tory sat in the chair to her left. "Recently as you've noticed I haven't been feeling well."

Tory's eyes filled with concern. "Is it cancer, Madame President?"

Roslin took a deep breath. "No, but it'll probably have just as great an impact. The admiral and I, with the help of Dr. Cottle, have discovered what the Cylons did to me. They impregnated me with the admiral's DNA. I will not break my own rules and therefore have decided to keep the child."

"This won't bode well for your position at all. Madame President, people will think you are immoral. This could cause-" Roslin interrupted her.

"Which is why Admiral Adama and I have decided to get married in a week. We have decided that rumors of my involvement with him would be better than my being pregnant out of wedlock and rumors flying around about affairs with Tom Zarek or even Gaius Baltar," she shuddered at the last name.

Tory sighed and folded her hands in her lap. "I can't say that I agree with you, but it is probably the most logical idea. Will you tell the fleet about the pregnancy?"

Roslin crossed her legs and drummed her fingers on the desk in thought for a moment. "No, but I will tell the Quorum about the marriage, which means that the press will know too. I realize that they will think of it as a conflict of interest, but the admiral and I will explain that it will bring more unity to the fleet."

The announcement was made later that day at the end of the Quorum's meeting. There were questions and concerns about conflicts of interest, but the tension broke when a woman with frizzy blonde hair and small square glasses from Picon blurted out, "Finally," resulting in several people chuckling.

After the meeting, the same woman caught up with the president and the admiral before they left. "Madame President, may I have a word with you?" she asked politely.

Roslin turned to Adama and remarked, "I'll be along in a minute."

He nodded. "I'll be in CIC," he stated before dashing off.

The woman stood at Roslin's height with a similar build. "Hello, I don't know if you remember my name or not, but I'm Margaret Vestry," she began.

"I remember your last name, but we haven't spoken very much," Roslin mentioned.

Margaret smiled politely. "My fault for letting my other delegates say what I should be saying then. I need to ask you a personal question and I promise my discretion."

Roslin swallowed the uneasy feeling in the back of her throat. But then she looked into the woman's warm brown eyes and something looked friendly about them. "Ask away."

"Are you pregnant?" Margaret whispered her question.

The president barely held her calm reserve. "What led you to that conclusion?" she inquired.

"You hold meetings later in the day, you don't exactly look well if you'll forgive me for saying so, and then there is your sudden marriage to the admiral," the woman explained.

Roslin raised an eyebrow. "Has it really been that obvious? I only found out myself a few days ago," she admitted.

"I am asking because when we first left our worlds, I was pregnant. My son is now two and I have business-like maternity clothes that I've been wanting to give to someone. I promise that I won't say a word to anyone, and I'm not doing this in order to get favors later either," Margaret elaborated.

Roslin smiled genuinely. "You're very kind. Thank you."

Somehow, Roslin decided not to ask, Margaret had gotten a hold of the laundry delivery for _Colonial One_ and had placed the maternity clothes in the bag along with her regular laundry. _Perhaps I've made a friend_, Roslin thought to herself as she headed back to her desk to pour over the plans for the wedding.

Adama had decided to mention recent developments to Kara as well. She dropped by while Roslin was visiting. "You wanted to see me, sir?" the pilot inquired.

The admiral glanced over at Roslin and watched her nod before turning back to Kara. "We have something that we wanted to share with you. Laura and I are getting married," he began.

Kara grinned fiendishly. "Congratulations! And sir, permission to speak freely?"

"You mean you're asking this time?" he teased.

"It took you two long enough," she blurted out.

Roslin and Adama chuckled and then the older woman stood to face Kara. "Perhaps we should also tell you the rest. I'm pregnant," she admitted.

Kara's eyes widened. "Holy frak, you two move fast!"

Adama cleared his throat. "Actually that part was the Cylons' fault."

They told Kara about the rescue mission. "Does Lee know?" she asked when they had finished.

"He sort of wandered into the situation," Roslin explained.

The ceremony was small, with only Adama, Roslin, Tigh, Lee, Dee, Kara, and Tory, along with the priest. Lee was his father's best man while Kara was the maid of honor. Margaret had loaned the president a white sleeveless V-neck dress. Roslin's wedding ring had come from Kara. She had been playing cards with several of the female pilots. They were all drinking and one woman bet a small gold ring with a ruby in it from an ex-boyfriend back on Caprica. After the wedding, Roslin and Adama followed Tory for a press conference announcement.

Though they decided that a reception would be impractical, the two had agreed to a full day's leave for a honeymoon. Adama locked the door after they entered his quarters and Roslin smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Let them think what they want," he answered her look.

"I'm just glad that I was able to move some of my things here. I think that I should spend most nights here, but still work on _Colonial One_," she mentioned.

"Sounds reasonable," he agreed as they sat on his couch, each with a glass of water in hand. "That only leaves the sleeping arrangement to work out. I don't think you'll want to sleep on the couch permanently."

She took a refreshing sip from her glass. "That only leaves your bed though," she pointed out.

He grinned wryly and shook his head. "Not exactly."

"Is this another one of those 'military decisions?'" she asked with a teasing smile.

He returned the smile and shook his head. "Nope, just a backup plan."

A moment later he stood and she followed him into his bedroom. He headed for a closet that she had not noticed before. "Stand back, things might be stacked precariously," he warned.

She did as he advised and he opened the door carefully. Something long and rectangular leaned out and he caught it, dragging it into the room. After closing the closet door, he pulled the legs out and turned the rectangle over. "This cot is actually the most comfortable thing on Galactica. It was used during the first Cylon war and the mattress is still in good condition. Tell me what you think," he offered her to try it.

Lying down on it and stretching, she found the springy quality of it to be as comfortable as he had promised. "And I thought that all cots would be uncomfortable," she stated with a smirk.

He chuckled. "The right ones just need several years of breaking in. We can even put a sheet up as a divider so that you have your own room," he suggested.

"Thank you. I know this is really putting you out. Here I am, stealing your last name and half your bedroom-" he cut her off by pulling her into a hug.

"I don't mind. I think 'Laura Roslin Adama' has a nice sound to it, and I won't have to use the phone all the time when I want to talk to you. It'll be like my early days way back when I was a viper pilot and I had bunk mates," he relayed.

She giggled and they slowly separated. His favorite part about her giggling was the way her eyes sparkled when she looked up, before she had composed herself again. "Does this whole idea seem crazy to you, Bill?" she questioned.

"A little. Saul's going to think I've gone off the deep end. At least you don't snore," he stated.

"You do, but I don't mind. I suppose we need string or something like it to put the sheet up," she rationalized.

In the same closet that the cot had been hiding it, they found twine and two hooks that could be screwed into the wall. Once a line was set up, they draped two sheets over it and Roslin had her own small room. She surveyed their work and smiled satisfactorily.

"I think this will do," she commented.

He smirked. "It had better. With my rack and your cot, I don't have any more extra sheets," he told her wryly.

As they headed to the living room, a realization occurred to her and she sat down on the couch. "Something wrong?" he inquired as he joined her.

"Where are we going to put the baby when it's born?" she questioned.

He answered her calmly. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Right now we're taking things one day at a time." She smiled and nodded in agreement.

(My thanks to csiAngel, carolann, Mariel3, Izabella Black, Kiyani, and Prince Joker for reviewing :D)


	6. Something more

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel. Spoilers and scenes from the episodes, "A Day in the Life," and "Dirty Hands" are used.

Chapter 6: Something more

It had been forty-nine days since the Cylons had been sighted. The admiral woke with a stiff groan, being completely aware of what day it was. Roslin had spent the night on _Colonial One_ due to work that she had wanted to finish. Tigh came in to have a quick drink with him, also remembering what day it was. His anniversary of his marriage to Caroline had come around again. It would have been his twenty-ninth anniversary.

Adama's relief in the day came when he saw Roslin for a short briefing. "Is everything alright, Bill? You look miles away," she observed.

"I'm fine. Some of the repairs we've made haven't been sticking well," he replied. "How are you feeling?"

He had noticed the lack of color in her cheeks. "I could be better. I know that the algae paste is nutritious, but lately it's been very unappetizing. And then there was the raptor ride over here," she mentioned.

"Getting space-sick?" he questioned.

She sighed. "Almost. I shouldn't have tried to eat before coming here. The pilot asked me three times if I was alright."

"That part shouldn't last too much longer though, right?" he asked.

Rubbing her eyes, she dealt him a half-smile. "I hope not. Anyway, I've got a few hours before I have to be anywhere, so I thought I'd head back to the gym."

He smirked. "I hope the smell won't bother you too much."

"I'm sure I can manage," she added with a slight chuckle. He looked solemn though as he turned to leave. "Bill, what's bothering you?"

"I'll deal with it," he stated in the tone that reminded her of the incident with Bulldog. She watched him leave and considered following him for a moment, but her own work load was calling to her.

The day proved to be even longer than he had anticipated. Having to listen as Chief Tyrol and his wife Cally discussed their marriage problems and worried about their son while being trapped was almost more than Adama could manage. To ease his conscience, he promised them that their son would be taken care of.

Later after their rescue had been successful, he stopped by Life Station to watch as Tyrol held his son up to the contraption that held Cally and was helping with her recuperation. Feeling guilty for almost causing the child to become an orphan, Adama did not make his presence known, but left quietly.

At least the next mark on his agenda was another meeting with Roslin. "Long day?" she asked as he entered the room.

On top of the incident with Tyrol and Cally, he was also remembering his conversation with Lee about what his ex-wife was really like. "That's an understatement," he replied.

She touched his hand so that he would meet her eyes. "I heard about the chief and his wife. I'm finding out that news travels fast on Battlestars."

A ghost of a smile appeared on his face. "We got lucky that they both survived," he paused and sighed heavily. "Both of them shouldn't have been trapped in there like that. Their son would've been orphaned easily. He did have a point on New Caprica that I wasn't paying much attention to until lately. A Battlestar isn't the best place to raise a child."

Gently grasping his forearm, she flashed him a reassuring smile. "I can tell you from first-hand experience that New Caprica was not any safer than _Galactica_. We had terrible weather, uncomfortable living conditions, and then the Cylons came back. I'm not raising our child on a planet unless it's Earth," she expressed.

He let a half-smile slip through his mood. "That's good to know."

/"I'm glad you stopped by. I have something for you," she mentioned, handing him a book/.

/"Blood Runs at Midnight," he said the title aloud/.

/"It was given to me by one of the colonists on New Caprica and I forgot about it and Tory found it in a pile of old clothes. Don't let the title fool you, it's a pretty good mystery. I think you'll like it, and it's not a loan, it's a gift," she explained/.

/He sat on the edge of the table. "Regarding the times there, one in particular stands out in my mind. You were wearing a really bright read dress. Said you wanted to build a cabin," he remarked, smiling at her/.

/Recognition flashed in her eyes. "It was Baltar's ground breaking ceremony. I got a little silly that night."/

/"Ever wonder what would've happened, if the Cylons hadn't come back?" he inquired/.

/She crossed her arms. "Well I think given Baltar and the terrain we couldn't have made a go of it. What about you? Do you think you would have stayed on _Galactica_, or do you think you would have settled?"/

/He decided to drop the direction that the conversation had taken. "It's pretty hypothetical, isn't it?"/

/"It is. Until it isn't," she commented before having a good laugh. "Did I just say that?"/

_Maybe this conversation is worth having after all_. /"It was worth it to see you laugh like that. We've been at war so long, sometimes we forget what we're fighting for, raise our kids in peace, enjoy one another's company. Live life, like people again."/

/She grinned. "Like that night on New Caprica, I think that's what we're talking about here now, isn't it?"/

/"That and… other times," he paused, attempting not to let his feelings get the better of him/.

She watched him hopefully, wondering if there might be something more to their new marriage than simply friendship. /"So if the Cylons hadn't come back?"/

/"But they did." He stood and walked over to her. "We have certain responsibilities."/ It was a small warning that needed to be considered. Despite the closeness of their situation, could they actually afford to let it become closer with the work that they still needed to do?

/"Yes we do, sir/. I have a few Quorum members that I need to meet with, and I should be back for dinner," she stated, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before walking away. /Before she left, she turned back to him. "Bill?" He glanced over at her as she spoke. "The answer's yes. I absolutely would've built the cabin."/

She came back to their quarters later that evening to find him sitting at his desk in his undershirts, staring at an old picture. He felt two comforting hands on his shoulders and turned to face her. "Bill, I know something's wrong, so why don't you just tell me?"

He sighed and showed her the picture. "This was my ex-wife, Caroline. It would've been twenty-nine years."

Roslin wondered to herself why this particular part of his past was troubling him. Thinking of Lee's age, comprehension dawned on her. "She was Lee's and Zack's mother," the president stated.

"I went off to play soldier and left her with two young boys," he mentioned flatly.

Crossing her arms, Roslin perched herself on the edge of his desk. "I think we've had this discussion before, about second chances," she reminded.

He set the picture down. "You're right, but I'm remembering my past so that I don't repeat it."

She placed a hand on his shoulder. "No you're not," she paused until he looked up at her. "You're doing the same damn thing that you did with that pilot. For Kobol's sake Bill, not every point of guilt in your past demands a penance from you. Do you torture yourself with her every year?"

"I wasn't there for her," was all he said.

"If you live in the past, your future becomes your past. Let her go. Forgive yourself for being younger and stupid, and then move on. I know you regret what happened, but I think she deserves to rest in peace. You'll be doing her a favor as well as yourself." Roslin stood and walked to the other side of the desk. "And where you're done beating yourself over the head with your own guilt, you can join me for dinner. I intend to make something edible out of that green goop yet."

He took a deep breath and watched her head off into the kitchen, knowing instinctively that she was right. Finishing what was left of his drink, he stood and left his wedding picture face-down in the drawer that he had found it in. "_Just turning your back on me again, as usual_," was the snotty remark he imagined her saying. _Goodbye, Carolanne, Laura's right. It's time for you to rest_, he concluded as he headed for the kitchen.

Roslin had decided to fry the algae into patties, adding spices that she had found in one cupboard. Adama sneaked up behind her and then placed his hands on her shoulders, startling her. "Good grief, don't do that!" she scolded.

She shook her head and he smirked before glancing at dinner. "Smells good."

"I got tired of eating it cold," she remarked, flipping the algae patties over with a spatula. "Are you alright now?"

His arms encircled her waist and he rested his head on her shoulder and spoke. "I owe you an apology," she could feel the rumble of his voice. "It wasn't fair to you that I was keeping a memorial for an anniversary to a woman that I've been divorced from while I'm also married to you."

She turned and gave him a small smile. "Fortunately I forgive you. Do you promise to stop punishing yourself for things you can't change?"

He nodded sheepishly. "I suppose."

"Good. Now hand me the pepper and we can eat soon," she requested.

"Hungry?" he teased.

"Both of us are famished," she countered, speaking for the unborn baby as well as herself.

That night instead of sleeping on the cot, she curled up next to him in his rack. "I know that things between us are confusing at best and most of this is to save my reputation, but you looked like you could use the company tonight."

He pulled the blankets over them and chuckled heartily. "You make me sound like a charity case."

She laughed heartily. "I think between the two of us, I'm the charity case. Technically these are your quarters that I'm staying in, it's been your food that we've eaten, and I'm in your bed at the moment."

"Dinner was good, so I guess you can stay," he teased. She swatted his arm playfully and he pulled her closer. They settled into a position with both of them facing out, his left arm around her waist and his right arm over his head. "Goodnight, Laura."

"Goodnight, Bill," she replied with a yawn.

A few days later Roslin was working on _Colonial One_ with Tory, looking over supply reports. The aide glanced up at the window and immediately grabbed Roslin by the arm. "Madame President, we have to leave now!"

Roslin quickly got to her feet and glanced over at the window as Tory pulled her out of the room to see a raptor drifting toward the ship. As they headed toward the other side of the ship, a jolt threw them against a wall, but it reminded her more of an earthquake than anything else.

"We need to find a phone and let the people know that you're alright," Tory informed her.

"Yes, of course." The aide handed the phone to the president while she accessed the intercom system to see that the other people onboard were safe.

On _Galactica _the admiral's eyes had been glued to the phone after they had watched the abandoned raptor bump into _Colonial One_. He sighed with relief when it rang. "Adama."

"Bill, don't worry. Everyone's fine here. I think the raptor glanced off us. We might have a breach, but I don't think we have any significant injuries," he heard Roslin say.

"We'll be over there shortly to inspect the damage and see if you need any help," he relayed.

He found her quickly on her ship as she moved a few boxes of files. The box she had in her hands suddenly felt lighter and she looked up to see that he had a hold of it. "You shouldn't be lifting too much," he reminded her gently.

"I'm fine. It's only files," she stated.

"We got lucky that there won't be much to fix," he mentioned, helping her move a few more things.

He took another box out of her hands. "I already told you that I'm fine," she retorted.

Turning back to her, he suddenly pulled her into a warm embrace. She hugged him back, understanding that he had been worried about her. Then they slowly separated. "I want you on _Galactica_. Do you think you can work there?"

She was about to protest. "Bill, are you really sure that it's-" the look he was giving her cut her off. "Alright, I suppose that would be fine."

(My thanks to csiAngel, carolann, Kiyani, and Izabella Black for reviewing :D)


	7. Minus one

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel. Margaret Vestry is mine. Spoilers for the episodes, "Maelstrom."

Chapter 7: Minus one

The day had actually started out well. Roslin had found an unopened box of cornflakes in the back of a cabinet and she handed Adama a bowl of cereal for breakfast when he emerged from the bedroom. "Lately I've had to remind you that it's morning. What made you get up early?" the admiral asked her as he sat down at the table.

"I good night's sleep usually helps. I recommend that you try it sometime," she answered, joining him.

He chuckled. "Yes, Dr. Roslin. If you say so, Dr. Roslin."

She grabbed her glasses and looked at him over the top of him. "You shouldn't patronize the woman who makes you breakfast," she scolded before smiling.

He watched her eat. "How's the morning sickness?"

"It's getting better. My stomach actually likes this stuff. I've got an appointment with Cottle later today after you and I have a meeting," she replied.

"Cornflakes were a lucky find then. I don't even know why they were here. Did you happen to find anything else in the back of that cabinet? Ancient potatoes, old gym shoes…" he joked.

She laughed and though for a moment. "I think there might have been a bag of beef jerky, flour, and some dried peaches. You probably had a few things in there in case of emergencies. Oh, and I found two boxes of tea."

They finished breakfast and prepared to leave for their respective places that day. Pausing at the door, they exchanged a quick goodbye kiss. The pilots had found a storm on a planet and were refueling that day. However, one of his best pilots had been having problems. Lee had spoken to him about Starbuck, but Adama had left the decision to pull her or leave her in up to Lee.

When Adama met Roslin for their briefing, they decided to conduct it in their quarters. "Something's bothering you," she observed as they walked through the corridor.

He stayed silent for a while until he sighed. "This planet, I've got a bad feeling about it. It's been suggested that there are Cylon scouts hiding in the storm. I don't know what to think right now."

She realized that his last comment had less to do with the planet and more to do with something else that was on his mind. "Bill."

"Later," he whispered.

Just then Kara passed by. She and Adama chatted for a moment about the planet. As he and the president turned to leave, Kara gave him a small statue of Aurora. /"What do you hear, Starbuck?" he asked her/.

She smiled at him like the daughter that he thought her to be. /"Nothing but the rain, sir," she replied/.

Roslin did not speak until she and Adama had passed through the hatch. "What's going on?" she asked gently.

The two sat on the couch with files on their laps. "Lee thinks that Kara might be seeing things out there. I still trust her, and I left the decision to leave her in the rotation up to him."

The president placed a hand on top of the admiral's hand. "It'll be alright," she stated.

It was what he needed to hear, but he did not feel it. He gave her a half-smile and turned back to the reports. "Let's see what our colonists are complaining about this time."

He was being evasive again, but she smirked, knowing that he was right about colonial complaints. They scanned the reports and then he headed back to CIC while she left for her doctor's appointment. As she walked to Life Station, Roslin spotted a familiar face.

"Margaret, how are you?" she asked the other woman with a smile.

She returned the smile. "I'm fine, thank you. How are you, Madame President?"

"I'm quite well," she paused and noticed a small boy with dark-brown hair standing at Margaret's knees. "Is this your son?"

Margaret smiled proudly and picked up the boy. "Yes, this is Tony." She addressed the boy. "Sweetie, this is the president. Can you say 'hi' to her?"

At first the boy turned away shyly, but then looked back. Something looked strangely familiar, whether it was the eyes or the hair, or even the shape of the face. Roslin smiled warmly and he finally spoke. "Hi, Ma'am Pres'dent."

"Hello, Tony," Roslin stated. Then she looked back at the other woman. "Is he usually with you during the day?"

Margaret nodded. "Except for the Quorum meetings when I have to leave him in the day-care unit, he's part of my crew. It's not always easy, but I'd rather he was with me than with anyone else," she explained, setting him down again.

"Do you ever leave him with his father?" Roslin inquired.

Margaret averted her eyes. "That wouldn't be a good idea."

"I'm sorry, that was a bit personal. I didn't mean to-" Roslin tried to apologize.

"No, it's alright. Maybe I'll tell you sometime. It is one of the more complicated messes that I've gotten myself into over the years," Margaret relayed.

Roslin nodded and the two women parted ways as she left for Life Station. "Well, everything seems to be fine. You know you're gonna start showing in the next few weeks. I hope you've got other clothes," Cottle reminded.

"I have a friend who loaned me a few things," she relayed.

"Good," he added. Then he brought out an electronic object that resembled a black stethoscope. There was a small switch at the "Y" of it that he moved up. Then he placed the round end on her abdomen. After using the earpieces himself, he handed them to her. "Listen, you can hear the heartbeat now," he mentioned.

She placed the earpieces in her ears and did as he had suggested. "Oh my," she managed to whisper. "Is this for real?"

Cottle chuckled and grinned. "Young lady, this is definitely for real, and that's the first proof of it. Now, how are your eating habits?"

"I found a box of cornflakes in a cabinet this morning. Those sit better than the algae for breakfast," she remarked.

He snorted. "Leave it to you to find the last real food in existence. Find another marker to Earth in there by chance?" he teased.

She laughed and shook her head. "No, but at least I didn't find anything moldy. I can imagine some extremely aggressive bacteria suddenly extending an arm and trying to pull things into the cabinet."

Cottle raised an eyebrow and gave her an amused smile. "I'm done with you for today. Do me a favor though, look after Bill will you? From what little I've seen of him, he could really use some of your good humor. Man's had a rain cloud over him lately."

"I'll do that," she promised as she left.

After a few more meetings with other delegates and a confusing, short-lived red alert signal, she was heading home when two pilots walked past her, deep in conversation. "I can't believe she's gone," said the dark-haired female pilot.

"Yeah, Apollo's really taking it hard," the bald pilot responded.

"I hear the Old Man left CIC without a word to anyone," that comment caught Roslin's full attention.

"Of course he'd take Starbuck's death hard," the other pilot added.

Roslin swallowed a sinking feeling at what she had just heard, knowing how the admiral felt about Kara. As she reached the hatch, she was hoping to simply enter quietly and not disturb him, but then she realized two things: one, that the door was actually locked, and two, she had no key.

She knocked, tentatively at first, but then with more urgency. "Bill, I'm locked out."

Hearing a grunt and a shuffling sound, she waited patiently. After another moment she heard the door unlock. Her eyes fell on his face and she noticed the redness around his eyes, as well as the broken expression. Then she realized that he had removed his jacket and was in his undershirts again.

"Sorry about that," he mumbled, letting her inside.

After locking the door behind her, she looked around the room, noticing his jacket on his desk chair, along with a glass of something alcoholic sitting on his desk. The figure of Aurora was in his left hand and out of the corner of her eye she spotted something that he had tried to hide, the wreckage of the model ship he had been working on. He went back to his desk to finish off his drink.

Fiddling with her hands for a moment, she tried to decide on a good way to breech the subject of what she had heard from the pilots, and what she had just noticed of him. Finally only two words came to mind. "I heard," she began, slipping her shoes off and walking over to him.

He would not look at her directly as he set down Aurora. "Lee said that her ship just exploded," Adama's voice was hollow.

"Bill, I'm so sorry," she whispered, reaching for his hand.

Instead of letting her take his free hand, he cupped her face with it and drew her closer to him until their foreheads me. She let her other hand rest on his shoulder. "I feel so lost," he told her quietly.

"I know. You don't know how much I wish that I could just make this alright again. It wasn't fair," she conveyed.

He set the glass down on the desk and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. She moved her arms around his waist and held him close as she let him cry. Her tears joined his and they continued to hold each other for a while. Then he took a deep breath and managed to gain control of his emotions.

"I'm sorry you had to walk in on all this," he told her as he pulled away.

She gently grasped his forearm as she had done many times before. "There is no shame sharing your problems with me. We will get through this together," it was a promise truer than any she had ever made. "Why don't you sit down on the couch for a minute and I'll get some tea?" she suggested.

His response was a brief nod. After a while she set two steaming cups of tea on the coffee table and sat down next to him on the couch. He lifted his cup and waited until she had settled herself to take a sip. "Thank you," he stated.

Nodding, she squirmed out of her jacket and took a sip from her cup as well. "On my way to see Cottle, I ran into Margaret again," she began.

He looked over at her and she saw guilt reflected in his eyes. "I forgot to ask you how your day was."

"It's alright," she mentioned with a small smile. "She really is a charming woman. I also met her son. He looks familiar, but I'm not sure to whom."

"If he doesn't look much like her, he probably resembles his father," Adama mentioned logically.

"She doesn't like to talk about his father," Roslin added.

"How was your visit with Cottle?" the admiral inquired.

"He said I'll be showing soon, so I'm glad that Margaret loaned me those extra clothes." The president took another sip of her tea and then set it down, smiling in a way that he had not seen often, as if she was glowing for a moment. "Jack let me hear the baby's heartbeat," she relayed, blushing slightly.

Adama set his teacup down next to hers and drew her into a hug. "Is it alright if I tag along on your next visit?"

She rested her forehead against his. "Sure."

When they retired for the evening, she cuddled next to him and they slept holding each other. He woke up alone, and to a smell he had not experienced in a while. Pulling his bathrobe over his pajamas, he made his way to the kitchen to find Roslin dressed and making what appeared to be pancakes.

"How'd you do that?" he asked incredulously.

Turning toward him, she grinned wryly. "I used some of the flour that I found yesterday."

"I'm surprised you know how to cook, especially with the algae. I never figured you to be the type to like cooking," he stated.

Grinning wryly, she shook her head. "What do you think I did on Caprica, or New Caprica for that matter? It's not like I could've ordered take-out on that planet."

"You mean Tory wouldn't cook for you?" he teased.

She giggled and swatted his arm playfully. "You, sir, shouldn't make such assumptions. I happen to find cooking very relaxing, almost as much as reading. Unless you can think of a way to relax that tops those two, I'm going to enjoy this." She turned back to her slightly green pancakes and flipped them over.

Suddenly a pair of hands rested on her shoulders. "I can think of a few," there was a hint of humor in his tone as he rubbed her neck and shoulders.

(My thanks to Izabella Black, csiAngel, Kiyani, carolann, and Mariel3 for reviewing :D)


	8. Trials and tribulations

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel. Margaret Vestry is mine. Spoilers are from episodes, "The Son Also Rises" and "Crossroads Parts 1&2."

Chapter 8: Trials and tribulations

Adama sat at his desk, looking through Kara's folder. She had died two weeks prior. He flipped through several disciplinary citations as well as notes that he had made himself. Then his fingers landed on a picture of her in which she had drawn glasses and a mustache on herself. He smiled sadly as he read the words/"_Can you see a resemblance_?"/

/"Yeah, I can,"/ he said aloud as Roslin entered the room, still in her bathrobe and nightgown.

"'Can' what?" she asked, walking over to him and resting her right hand on his left shoulder as she glanced at the open file on his desk.

He looked over at her and smiled before showing her the picture. "She really was like a daughter to me." Roslin could hear the pain behind the smile he had just given her.

"I like it. You should find a frame for it and put it on the bookcase," Roslin recommended.

Reaching for her left hand with his right, he squeezed it. "Maybe," he paused for a moment. "You should probably get dressed."

"I know," she responded. _Colonial One_ had been repaired to a point where she could work safely in her own office again, but she had decided that the majority of her time would be spent working on _Galactica_. Then she touched his cheek with her left hand. "Will you be alright today?"

He turned his head and kissed her palm. "I'll manage," he stated. She nodded and left to find her dress suit for the day. Tucking her shirt in was not nearly as comfortable as it had once been, but she was still able to hide her pregnancy for a while.

Folders in hand for the day, she turned back to him before opening the door. "Have lunch with me on _Colonial One_," she suggested.

This time when he faced her his smile was genuine. "Alright. Have a good day, Laura."

She smiled back. "You too, Bill."

He did meet her for lunch, but he was at her office because the first attorney for Baltar had been killed earlier that day and they needed to discuss a replacement. "What do we know about this Romo Lampkin?" Adama asked.

A blue file was handed to him. "Apparently he used to work for the public litigation office. What I want to know is why he would volunteer to defend Baltar," the president commented.

The admiral smirked. "Maybe he misread the message and he thinks he'll be the executioner."

Shaking her head, she smirked also. Then Tory poked her head around the doorway. "Ma'am, he's here," the aide announced. Roslin nodded for her to send him in.

She pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose as the man entered the room. He wore a greenish blue casual suit and sunglasses. _We're in space. Why is he wearing sunglasses out here? I wonder what we've gotten ourselves into this time_, she thought to herself, choosing to remain seated.

/ "Well, it's so comforting to know that you're not afraid. You're not afraid to represent the most hated man alive. The question is, why?" Roslin questioned/.

/His voice was scratchy and accented. "For the fame, the glory."/

/Roslin smirked and Adama glanced at the folder in front of him again before facing Lampkin. "You worked for the public litigation office on Caprica. You think you have the qualifications to handle a case of this magnitude?"/

/Roslin slid her glasses off and set them on her desk, watching the puzzling man in front of her as he spoke again. "I was born for this. That, and the fact that I have a pulse," Lampkin answered/.

/Suddenly a cat jumped up on the table and startled her. Lampkin reached for his bag and picked the cat up to move it. "Lance belonged to my wife. Don't worry, he doesn't scratch or bite like she did. If it's any comfort, I despise him as much as you do," he paused and the others figured that he had meant Baltar and not the cat. "So, there it is. Shall we get started?"/

By the time Lampkin left, Roslin was rubbing her neck in exhaustion. Adama noticed and stood behind her to offer a neck rub. "Thanks, Bill. I think the strain of this trial's getting to me."

"Understandable. What do you think of our new defense attorney?" the admiral probed.

"I don't trust him in the least, and I've got a bad feeling about this trial," she remarked.

"That makes two of us," he responded.

He left and they both returned to their respective work. After his shift in CIC had ended, Adama sat at his desk with a glass of the gold stuff again. Roslin entered, slipping her shoes off and finding some water for herself. Then she walked over to him and lightly touched his forearm. "Hey," she said.

He glanced up at her and dealt her a half-smile. "Hey yourself."

She sat down on the couch and put her feet up. "Bad day?"

Taking a gulp of his drink, he walked over to the couch and sat next to her. "Lee almost got himself blown up while looking after Lampkin. Then Lampkin almost got himself blown up. He's injured, so Lee volunteered to help him and Baltar with the trial. Laura, I don't know what I'm going to do with him," Adama relayed.

She sighed and drank her water. "Unfortunately he is an adult and therefore he can make his own mistakes."

"I guess I wasn't paying attention to that part in Parenting 101," he remarked with a hint of amusement.

Grinning, she set her glass down on the coffee table. "Actually a class in parenting would probably be a good idea. Trying to repopulate the human race, people could use some guidance."

He chuckled and it felt good to laugh for a moment. "I suppose that's your next decree after the 'we need to start having babies' speech."

She blushed and looked down at her hands. "Little did I know that I'd be following through with that in more ways than one," she added.

One of her hands drifted onto her slightly rounded abdomen. He placed a hand on top of hers and their eyes met. "It'll be alright. We'll learn as we go like we've been doing with everything else," he reassured her, understanding her unspoken worry.

"And here I thought I was supposed to be telling you that," she commented with a smile before kissing him gently.

The trial began approximately three months after the fleet had last seen the Cylons. A few hours prior to its start, Adama had sent two of his pilots out in a raptor to see if the Cylons were still following them. _They probably think that I took this position myself instead of by lottery_, he thought as he sat in his chair as the middle judge, feeling as though all eyes were on him.

The prosecutor, a strawberry blonde woman, began and he was momentarily relieved to see the crowd's attention focus on her. /"How do we measure loss? We measure it in the faces of the dead. We measure it in our own faces in the ones we see in the mirror every day. We measure it in numbers. We had to turn it around, we had to count the living."/

/She wrote numbers on a board and pointed out the problem between the 44,045 people they had before settling on New Caprica, compared to 38,838 people that they rescued, which left 5197 unaccounted for/.

/Lampkin began his opening statement by saying that his client should change the plea to guilty. "What choice do I have?" he asked the court in his effort to point out their tendency to condemn/. "We're looking for someone to blame. /Getting some righteous payback," he paused as Roslin tried to sneak in late and then he pointed her out. "Especially her. Gaius Baltar saved us on New Caprica, when Laura Roslin would have seen us all dead."/

In CIC they had just received a report from the raptor that several base ships had appeared. /"Begin searching the fleet for tracking devices," Adama ordered/. The last thing that he wanted to acknowledge was that his fleet might have been tracked all this time as he leaned forward with both hands on the table.

Roslin rested a hand on top of his. /"I think we should ask the Six. I have a feeling," she recommended/.

Adama raised an eyebrow. /"A feeling?"/

The day had already begun to take its toll on her as well. /"It's more than a feeling, wh-just do it," she remarked. Then she walked off behind the glass, knowing that Adama would follow her/.

"What in the name of sanity's goin' on here lately?" Tigh mused.

Lee shrugged and glanced over at his father and the president. "I wish I knew."

Behind the glass, she sighed and he took one of her hands in his. "Are you alright?" he probed.

She nodded and adjusted her jacket. "I think it's just a combination of stress over this trial and some things I'm finding very annoying called hormones."

He smirked and she gave him an over-the-glasses glare. "How was the doctor's appointment? I'd have been there but-"

Her hand shot up dismissively. "You had your duty. I'm sorry about being late. Everything's fine, I'm just tired."

"And nervous," he noticed. She nodded and he rubbed circles in her hand. "I think you should eat something before we go back in there. What's with the hunch?" he questioned.

"Do you remember me telling you that I had visions when I was on chamalla? I've been having disturbing dreams lately, in the last week. It might be from the pregnancy, but I'm not sure," she admitted in a whisper.

"We'll see what the blonde Cylon has to say," Adama agreed.

As the trial resumed, Adama had thought back to what Tigh had told him about the blonde Cylon and the unique radiation signature. Tigh on the stand, and noticeably drunk to people who knew him well. Adama watched as Lee pointed it out to Lampkin. The defense attorney questioned him about the terrorist bombings among other things.

/The man paced, leaning on his cane. "Colonel, you dislike Gaius Baltar?"/

/His answer was blunt and Lampkin pursued the comparison of Tigh's terrorist tactics to Baltar's misconduct. "If he'd had the guts to show up like he was supposed to, we wouldn't be having this conversation," Tigh answered/.

/Then Lampkin asked about Tigh's wife. Adama spoke in his calm, but irritated tone. "I fail to see the point in pursuing this subject."/

/The other captains overruled the admiral and Lampkin asked about why Tigh blamed Baltar for her death. "All because Gaius fracking Baltar couldn't stand up to the Cylons," Tigh managed/.

Lampkin then asked the one question that Adama had worried about. /"Who killed Ellen?"/

/Adama was about to intercede again when Tigh stated in a slightly cracking voice, "I did."/

/Roslin was next to appear on the stand, her demeanor as prim and proper as usual. She answered the questions calmly. "I was grading papers in the school house at night… they took close to two hundred people, it seems that all of our names were on a list, signed by Gaius Baltar." Adama glanced from Roslin to Lampkin and noticed him talking with Lee and Baltar, as though worried by her testimony/.

That evening, Adama found Tigh more drunk than he had seen the man in years, with his head down on a table in the mess hall. He helped his friend up and walked the colonel to his quarters. /The admiral sat down next to him on the bed and sighed heavily. "Out three days from the next clue on the road to Earth," he relayed/.

/Tigh began to apologize for the trouble on the witness stand. "I embarrassed you."/

/"You're my oldest friend, and you could never embarrass me," Adama told him/.

The admiral headed to his quarters and slumped down at his desk. Next on his agenda was a meeting with his son and lately nothing had been going smoothly. Roslin was spending the night on _Colonial One_ to work on more of her testimony with the prosecutor and her aide, who had seemed uncharacteristically rattled lately in Adama's eyes.

/The discussion with his son later that evening had begun well enough, with Lee suggesting a decoy with the ship that carried the unique radiation signature by which the Cylons were tracking them. The admiral conceded that it was a good idea. Then the conversation began to slide downward when Lee asked, "How's the president?"/

Adama noticed that Lee had created distance by saying 'the president' instead of 'Laura.' The older man gave his son a long hard look. /"We can't talk about the trial. Look what you did to Tigh. You're the last person I should confide in," he stated gruffly/.

/"Are you calling me a liar?" Lee asked indignantly/.

/"I'm calling you a liar and a coward. One who doesn't have the guts to go after a man himself," the admiral retorted/.

/"Are you done?" the younger man snapped/.

Adama took a deep breath. /"Yes."/

/"Good. Then so I am," Lee relayed, removing his rank pin and setting it on his father's desk. "I will not serve under a man who questions my integrity."/

/"And I won't have an officer under my command who doesn't have any," Adama growled, brushing the pin to the floor/.

The admiral sat at his desk for a while deep in thought after his son had left. Finally he picked up the phone. Roslin moved a folder from her lap and stood to reach the phone. "Hello?"

"Laura, I just needed hear your voice," he conveyed.

She smiled slightly. "Bill, is everything alright?"

There was a pause on his end of the line. "I didn't have the best conversation with Lee."

"Should I come home?" she questioned.

He smiled, enjoying the sound of her referring to their quarters as 'home.' "I'll be fine."

She bit her lip pensively. "Alright Bill, goodnight then."

"Goodnight, Laura," he responded.

Roslin was to be cross-examined by the defense the next day. She noticed that Lee wore a suit instead of his uniform. Lampkin limped over to her. "Please state your name for the court, your full name," he began.

She gave a calm nod. "Laura Roslin Adama."

He decided to expound upon a new topic. "When were you married?" he probed smoothly.

"Two months ago," Roslin replied, appearing unflappable.

Lampkin then studied her with the scrutiny of glaring white lamp from Life Station. "How long have you been pregnant?" he dared to ask. The only indication she gave him that he had phased her was her blinking twice.

"Objection. That question is not relevant to his trial, nor the man on trial," Adama stated hastily.

Lee strode over to Lampkin and the admiral. "The defense requests a moment of discussion." Adama nodded and Lee turned to the defense attorney. "Look, I shouldn't have let that slip. It's not gonna help Baltar, so I think we should ask her another question."

"She questioned my client's integrity, and therefore we have a right to question hers," the defense attorney pointed out.

"As much as I disagree with him, this time the admiral's right," Lee said quietly.

Lampkin sighed and stared at Lee with the same scrutiny he had given the president. "I'm only going to let you do this to me once," he whispered. Then he turned back to Roslin. "Madame President, why did you go back to teaching after the last election instead of contesting it or remaining in politics?"

"I enjoy teaching and I felt like I needed to step out of the public eye for a while," she replied calmly.

The defense attorney folded his hands and limped back and forth for a moment. "Why do you think that you lost a trial to a man who has supposedly done so many terrible things?"

She folded her hands on the table in front of her and watched him. "Why Mr. Lampkin, surely you realize that no one is above being fooled once or twice."

He tried one last tactic. "And would you call an indiscretion 'being fooled,' Madame President?" he jabbed.

"I really don't know what you could be referring to, but I suppose that an indiscretion could be perceived as such," she answered.

"Has the admiral ever fooled you, Madame President?" Lampkin asked calmly.

She raised an eyebrow and replied, "No, and I believe that it does not accord with our laws that a wife should testify against a husband."

Lampkin looked from one to the other. "No further questions then."

The press capitalized on what the trial had uncovered. Roslin held a brief press conference, confirming that she was indeed pregnant. Tory interrupted the press when one reporter asked about Roslin's due date. The conference was cut off as the president dealt with her aide.

/The next morning Adama was shaving as the lights flickered. He grunted as he nicked himself, pausing to dab the cut with a towel./

He looked back to see Roslin sitting up in her cot, but not moving. She met his gaze as he spoke. "Something wrong?"

/"Yell at me, I don't wanna get out of bed," she commented/.

/"Well you asked the wrong person. I was just thinking of going back to bed," he mentioned with a wry grin/.

She eyed him with concern. /"You feeling okay?"/

/"Yeah, I'm alright. How are you doing?" he evaded her question/.

Sighing, she ran a hand through her hair. /"I don't wanna face him. I don't wanna face any of them. I just want to stay in bed all day."/

He wiped the remaining shaving cream from his face. /"If you still need to be yelled at, I think I can give you some volume."/

/"Good. Alright, give it your best shot," she told him with a smirk/.

/"Get out of that bed!" he shouted/.

She crossed her arms and her brow furrowed. /"That's not your best shot."/

He shook his head and tried again. /"Get your fat lazy ass out of that bed, Roslin."/

/She laughed. "Yes sir, okay sir, anything you say sir. Thank you,"/ she replied as she stood and pulled the blankets back over the cot, starting to head for the closet.

"You know there was a time when my yelling at you meant something," he goaded as he walked over to her.

"Yes, and thank goodness I learned to see right through it," she teased, finding her gray suit. With the jacket, she could still hide her pregnancy while on the witness stand.

As she faced him, he brushed her cheek with his thumb and then leaned close to kiss her tenderly. /"Don't let them see you sweat, Laura,"/ he told her as he pulled back.

The trial continued and Lee was put on the stand after Gaeta's questionable testimony. His testimony about how forgiving everyone has been, and how they were using Baltar as a scape-goat for their faults riveted the crowd and changed the opinion of one judge. The verdict was announced and Baltar was found not guilty of treason by a three-to-two vote. However, the judges decided that due to his collaboration, he would perform community service for the first month of his freedom. The Quorum would vote later and decide what that service would be.

Roslin and Adama met in CIC. She paced the space and sighed heavily. "I can't believe they found him innocent!" she expressed.

/"Innocent is different than 'not guilty,'" Adama mentioned/.

She met his eyes and when he turned his gaze out in front of him, she knew. "You were the deciding vote," she said quietly. "You let that frakking nutcase loose!"

/"We need to look toward the future and punishing him wasn't going to help," he tried to tell her as she stepped way from him/.

/The ships had just jumped to the nebula when the lights flickered. Roslin placed one hand on the table, removing her glasses with the other. Adama watched her with concern, noticing that she looked ill/. "Laura, are you alright?" he asked with concern.

/She was resting her elbow on the table, leaning on it just before the lights went out completely/. After a moment the power came back and one of the officers announced that the power outage had been fleet-wide. "I'll be fine. I just – I don't know what that was," Roslin remarked, standing and walking closer to him. "But I have a feeling that we are about to find something very big."

They headed deeper into the nebula as they realized that the Cylons were still pursuing them while Tigh and Tory entered CIC, both appearing more composed and ready to resume their posts. Strangely though, once the entire fleet was in the nebula, the Cylons passed by, as if they did not see them.

"Why didn't they attack?" Adama asked.

"Sir, they couldn't see us. According to the sensors, we passed through some sort of force field or shield and they couldn't detect us. I think it caused the power outages," Dee told the admiral.

Roslin suddenly seemed more alert as she looked at the nebula on screen. "Ask her to scan for a planet," she suggested to Adama.

He eyed her curiously, but asked Dee to scan for a planet anyway. There were a few stars in the nebula and one planet that could support life. "Sir, there's some sort of scrambled message coming our way. All I can get from it is 'we're down here,' and someone's call sign. Is there an 'Artemis' in the fleet somewhere?" Dee inquired.

Tigh and Adama exchanged looks. "It's a long story, but if this isn't some sort of new trick from the Cylons, then we may have another ship to join us," the admiral mentioned before ordering further scans of the planet.

Hearing him say 'Cylons,' Tigh glanced at Tory and then back to the admiral. "Sir, when we can, the chief, Anders, the president's aide, and I need to talk to both of you."

As they met in Adama's quarters an hour later, Tigh reiterated the incidents that all four of them had experienced with the music. "We're Cylons, Bill. And somehow when the power went out, the music stopped and we've been thinking clearly ever since."

"We swear that the last thing we'd ever want to do is help those toasters," Tyrol declared.

The admiral nodded. "That's good to know." He paused and looked at Anders, Tory, and the chief. "You three are dismissed," he relayed. After they left, he turned back to Tigh. "Saul, the fact that the music you were all hearing just turned off leads me to think that someone may have been behind it. You might've been right earlier when you suggested Cylon sabotage. I want you to tell me if you hear anything else."

"Yes sir," Tigh stated emphatically. Adama told him that he could leave and Tigh exited shortly, leaving only the admiral and the president.

"I've known him for forty years and I don't believe for a minute that he could be a Cylon," Adama conveyed.

Roslin slid her shoes off onto the floor and put her feet up. "So you think that unlike the others, he actually heard it instead of feeling it?" she probed.

The admiral nodded. "He doesn't say much about it, but Saul's hearing is better than he lets on."

She rested her head on the back of the couch and closed her eyes. "I don't want to deal with things right now. It's been a long day," she mumbled.

He removed her glasses and then touched her hand. "I know you don't agree with my decision to acquit Baltar, but would you forgive me enough so that we can move past today?" he implored.

Opening her eyes, she looked over at him, quietly studying him pensively before she smiled. "I still don't like it, and I'm not sure that I understand why yet, but I'm not angry with you anymore."

"I suppose it's a start," he commented.

She stood and leaned to kiss him on the cheek. "It's more than a start. I'm not willing to let this trial cause 'us' any more problems."

He kissed her gently on the lips before she could move back. "Then that's one good thing to come out of today," he stated.

(My thanks to Kiyani, Grammar Maven, Sammy-Girl001, csiAngel, Mariel3, carolann, and Izabella Black for reviewing :D)


	9. Change of plans

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel. Margaret Vestry is mine.

Chapter 9: Change of plans

The Quorum had voted to keep Baltar confined in the laboratory, in hopes of making an improved Cylon detector as community service. Roslin suggested that someone ought to work with him, supervising him in a way. She waited after the meeting was dismissed, hoping for a volunteer. As she prepared to walk out along with them, Margaret approached her.

"Madame President, do you have a moment?" the blonde woman requested.

"Of course, Margaret, what do you need?" Roslin inquired with a polite smile.

Margaret returned the smile. "First, how are you?"

"I'm quite well, thank you," Roslin replied, knowing the Margaret would continue.

"I haven't told you what my job was when I lived on Picon. I was a biologist, working for the military base there. I do not mind keeping an eye on Baltar, if it means that we can invent a better Cylon detector. I have a few theories that could be worth testing," Margaret mentioned.

"Could you follow me to my quarters and we can continue this discussion?" Roslin offered. The other woman nodded and they walked to the admiral's quarters.

The president offered her guest a glass of water and the two women sat down on the couch. "Humans have certain scents that they give off when they sweat," Margaret began, "and I think that the Cylons might not have been able to replicate our sweat glands. If I can test this theory, then all Baltar and I have to do is design a device that can pick up certain odors."

Roslin's eyes widened. "That sounds extremely simple, and it could save time as well as resources."

"Which is what I was thinking," Margaret added, talking a drink of water.

"I do have one question though," Roslin paused, studying the other woman. "Why would you possibly want to work with Baltar?"

Margaret stared down at her hands for a moment and then took a deep breath. "Do you remember when you asked me about Tony's father?"

Roslin nodded. "The topic seemed to bother you."

The other woman crossed her knees and folded her hands. "I few years back I attended a conference for scientists on Caprica. I met him there and we chatted about biology and things of that sort. The conference itself was terribly boring. Then we went to a bar and got rather drunk. I honestly don't recall much after my sixth glass of some orange concoction. In the morning I woke with a splitting headache, in a room that was most definitely not my hotel, next to the man I had talked to the previous day. Both of us were shocked and agreed never to discuss the matter again after he let me use his shower."

"Is Baltar Tony's father?" Roslin questioned, sensing where the conversation was drifting.

"Yes, and my son will never know that," Margaret responded.

"I certainly won't tell anyone," Roslin promised.

Margaret smiled in gratitude. "You can tell the admiral if you want. Whether or not it was on purpose with me, that man is a womanizer and I'd like to keep an eye on him to make sure that he doesn't ruin another woman's life," she explained.

Adama met Roslin in their quarters in the afternoon. "We've been scanning the planet and it looks like it has a decent food source," he mentioned, kissing her on the cheek.

"Something other than algae?" she asked hopefully.

He chuckled. "And I thought you were starting to like that stuff. From what our readings tell us, it can support actual vegetables and it might also have animals. If there's a ship in this area, it'll be on that planet."

"You haven't told me yet about this supposed other ship," she reminded.

"I think the commander is Bernard Falkner. We're hoping to find the _Cassiopeia_. It disappeared after our first few jumps following the attacks on the colonies," he explained.

"And 'Artemis?'" she added.

He sat back and smiled. "That's her call sign because she was always good at hunting things down. Actually the phrase I use, 'good hunting,' comes from her. She's an old friend of mine and Saul's. I think she'd be about forty now. Diana is what we know her as. Colonel Diana 'Artemis' Genoa was a great pilot before her knee got shattered. She's… not the easiest woman to get along with, but she's worth knowing."

"I think I'd like to meet her," Roslin remarked.

"Hopefully you will," he stated.

A file fell off the desk and Roslin walked back to pick it up. Seeing that it was the Quorum's assessment of Baltar, she was reminded of her guest that morning. "Margaret stopped by earlier. She is willing to work with Baltar on inventing a better Cylon detector."

"Why?" Adama inquired.

"I asked her the same thing. She doesn't want him to be a womanizer anymore," Roslin mentioned.

He eyed her incredulously. "I suppose I've heard of stranger reasons. Does she already know him?"

The president took a deep breath. "In a way. She told me that it was alright if you knew. Her son Tony is the product of a one-night stand with Baltar."

Adama put a hand up before she could say anything more. "That's all I need to know. And I thought our story was complicated."

"They should be starting tomorrow. A new security camera was installed in the lab and I'd like to watch them interact," Roslin stated.

Adama nodded in agreement as he glanced at his watch and stood. "Jack will be looking for us."

"Let's go then," she added.

Because Adama had missed her appointment due to the trial, she had scheduled a second one a few days later. Cottle walked over to them as he watched them enter Life Station, arms linked. "Usually I have to have someone drag you here. This week I can't get rid of you," he goaded Roslin.

"I want Bill to hear the baby's heartbeat too," she simply stated.

Cottle led them over to one of the beds and had Roslin sit. Then he retrieved the listening device, pressing the rounded end to her abdomen and handing the other end to Adama. The doctor observed his guests with interest. The admiral's usually stony reserve gave way to wonder, and then pride. Roslin blushed and smiled shyly before Adama reached for one of her hands.

He kissed her hand and then kissed her lips tenderly. Cottle watched as a look passed between them that he had not seen when he told her that she was pregnant. _Great gods, they're in love. Funny thing is that I don't think they've realized it yet. Deities help us all when they do_.

The doctor decided that his guests had been there long enough and should leave before anyone else in the room came to the same conclusion that he had. "Alright, you two, I've got other patients. I'll see you two at the next appointment," he stated curtly, attempting to throw them out.

Roslin giggled. "We're sorry to have annoyed you then," she teased, earning her one of Cottle's infamous glares, but then also one of his smirks.

The president and the admiral sat in a small room near the lab the following day, observing the black and white security screen. Baltar had arrived first and seemed to look around the lab, as if relieved to be back at his old job. He looked over his shoulder and seemed to be talking to someone, but no one was there. "I see he still has his invisible friend," Adama pointed out.

A moment later, Margaret entered the area and grabbed a lab coat. Baltar appeared startled as he turned and faced her. "Hello, Dr. Baltar. I'm Dr. Vestry and we will be working together to make a better Cylon detector."

He stared at her incredulously. "Excuse me, Madame, but what qualifications do you have to figure out something as complex as a Cylon detector? And what was wrong with the first one?" he questioned.

She smiled patiently. "I am a biologist and I do have a few theories that I'd like to try. And about your first detector, it was too slow and it used too many resources. We need to find something more efficient."

Baltar scoffed. "And you really think that you are more intelligent than I am in order to come up with a new device? Roslin and Adama are both intimidated by me because I'm the smartest person alive."

Roslin glared at the screen. "Why that arrogant pain in the-"

"Something tells me that your friend will keep him in check," Adama interrupted.

Margaret stepped over to a computer and began typing. "I can actually make you a diagram of my theory. It's not about intelligence, and I am not trying to insult yours, or look better than you. It's about the preservation of humanity and results."

Baltar raised an eyebrow. "So you're not trying to out-do me at all?"

"No," she said with a polite smile. "Now you've probably had the most experience with Cylons and therefore your input on my theory will be valuable. Cylons try to mimic humans biologically, true? While you've been around Cylons, have they ever emitted a different odor than humans when they perspire?"

He looked away and fiddled with a pen, deep in thought. After a moment he faced her again. "I never really paid much attention to that aspect, but I think I understand where you are headed. You think that Cylons and humans smell differently enough that you could, in theory, design a device to sniff out different odors."

She nodded in confirmation. "That's basically it."

"It's absolutely brilliant, but it will need work," he relayed.

"Does that mean you are willing to help me?" Margaret encouraged.

"I suppose so," Baltar replied. Adama and Roslin stood to leave, but they stopped at Baltar's next comment. "You look familiar, Dr. Vestry, very familiar. Have we met before?"

Margaret's expression gave nothing away. "No."

"Are you certain? Because I swear you look familiar," he pursued.

"Perhaps I look like someone you saw in a grocery store. I get that from time to time," she stated.

Over the next couple of days, Adama sent down scouting groups to investigate the planet. They relayed that an old Battlestar was on the planet. "Saul and I are going down there to check things out," Adama told Roslin as they prepared for another observation session of the lab.

"Bill, do you really think that's a good idea? What if something happens to you? Who's going to lead the fleet then?" she pointed out.

He put up a hand dismissively. "Everything will be fine."

They sat and watched the screen. Margaret and Baltar had been making progress, actually assembling the materials to build the new device. Baltar leaned an elbow on the counter and faced her. "You know, I could really use a friend. The whole fleet would sooner see me thrown out of an airlock, and you seem like a nice person."

He reached for her cheek and she took a step back. "I'm sorry, Dr. Baltar, but I don't make friends that way. I am unavailable."

Standing, he scoffed. "Fine, judge me like everyone else! You – why are you here anyway? You didn't say where you stood regarding my trial either. Do you think I'm guilty too? Is that it?" he demanded. "Wait, you're here to watch me, like some parole officer, aren't you?"

Margaret took a deep breath. "Where I stand is my personal opinion and I do not let it affect my professional opinion." She turned back to her microscope.

"How convenient for you. That's easy for you to say when people are actually honest with you," he retorted.

She sighed and looked up again. "We need to leave discussions like that elsewhere because it won't help either one of us. Now could you please hand me that Petri dish?"

Adama stood and Roslin turned her attention away from the monitor. "I need to head over to CIC. Those two are beginning to feel like a bad soap opera," he mentioned.

Roslin smirked. "He just doesn't know how to let things go. I'm coming with you to see what you've learned about that planet so far."

As the two left, Margaret headed into the storage closet. "We need to increase its sensitivity," she mentioned as Baltar slowly followed her. She stood on her tiptoes, moving a few things around one of the higher shelves. If I could only find-" one of the shelves had come loose and at that moment, a small centrifuge device slid off and hit her in the head, knocking her to the ground unconscious.

Baltar rushed over to her and looked around frantically as blood began to ooze from the gash in her skull. "No, no, no, this is not happening. What am I going to do? What am I going to do?" he began to panic.

"_Now Gaius, you're just going to have to take her to Life Station yourself. You'd better hurry; it looks bad_," his inner Six told him.

He gently picked her up and carried her, walking quickly to Life Station. She moaned and he realized that she was still away. "What happened?" she uttered.

"You were hit on the head, but I'm brining you to someone who can help," he explained.

"It wasn't your fault. I should have been more careful in the storage closet," she reassured him as people he walked by stared at him with suspicion.

Cottle happened to be walking by as he entered Life Station. "She was hit on the head," Baltar explained.

"If you did something to her-" Cottle began. He was interrupted by Margaret.

"It wasn't his fault," she relayed. Baltar set her down on a bed while Cottle continued to glare at him.

"She's got a bad concussion. I need you to say with her and keep her awake while I find a few things," Cottle instructed.

As the older doctor left, Baltar took gauze and tried to stop the bleeding. "I'm sorry I was so rude to you. I need to keep you awake though," he remarked.

"Could you make sure someone calls CIC? I need to speak with the president or the admiral," Margaret mumbled.

Baltar nodded. "I'll do that, just stay awake," he ordered, stepping aside to see a phone on the wall. While he called CIC, Margaret pulled out a picture from her pocket of her son that she kept with her. Seeing him would help her focus. Baltar returned and saw her studying the picture. "Roslin's on her way over here. Who's that?"

Margaret decided that telling him a little about the boy could not hurt. "This is my son. He's two and already he talks up a storm. He's a sharp boy and he likes _Galactica_…," she trailed off and closed her eyes.

"No, you can't do that. You have a concussion and I have to keep you awake," Baltar explained as he shook her shoulders.

"Tired, need to sleep," she muttered.

"No! No, stay with me. Come on then, for- for your son. Stay with me. Oh, come on, they're all going to blame me for this," he whined.

"Alright Dr. Baltar, what's going on?" a familiar voice behind him startled him.

"Madame President, thank goodness you're here. I-" she was not giving him an inch.

"What did you do to her?" Roslin demanded.

Margaret put up her hand. "It wasn't him. I was in the storage closet and I think something fell on me. He was on the other side of the room."

Roslin rushed over to the blonde woman and as she turned, Baltar took a good look at her condition. "Good god, it's true," he commented, noticing that she was pregnant.

She ignored him and attended to her friend. "Are you certain?"

"Baltar didn't hurt me. I think he can work on the device himself until I feel better," the other woman said lucidly.

Cottle appeared with a cart. "Okay everyone, I'm gonna see what I can do here. Now clear out," he stated.

Margaret grabbed Roslin's hand. "Please, can you take Tony somewhere until I'm out of here?"

The president nodded. "I'll watch him myself," she relayed.

"Thank you, Madame President," Margaret managed.

"It's 'Laura,'" Roslin mentioned before turning back to Baltar.

"Madame President, I swear I did not-" she cut him off again.

"I will be reviewing the security camera footage, but I trust Dr. Vestry enough to know that if she trusts you, then I can leave you alone for a while. However, you step out of line and you'll be back in your old cell, and I'll find a way to keep you there," the president told him firmly.

Then Roslin left for the day-care service. Adama had already headed down to the planet with Tigh and she decided to pick up Tony.

(A/N: I'm sorry that it took so long to post. I had technical difficulties with the website).

(My thanks to Mariel3, carolann, Izabella Black, csiAngel, Kiyani, Grammar Maven, and C and L 4eva for reviewing :D). (I'd also like to thank carmelapples and banana53080 for helping me post).


	10. Finders, keepers

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel. Margaret Vestry is mine and Diana Genoa are mine.

Chapter 10: Finders, keepers

On her way to the day-care, Roslin was intercepted by Tory. "Madame President, what's going on? You have a meeting with the education committee in half an hour," the younger woman reminded her.

Roslin glanced back in the direction of Life Station before replying. "Margaret Vestry, one of the Quorum members from Picon, ended up with a concussion. I've volunteered to look after her son until she recovers."

"But Madame President, you hardly have time for-"

Tory's protest was cut off. "Margaret is my friend. Besides, a little practice won't hurt," Roslin interjected.

The aide sighed resolutely. "Alright. If you insist on this course of action, I can watch the child while you're in the meeting, if you'd like," she offered as they continued walking.

Roslin smiled warmly. "Thank you, Tory. I appreciate this," she relayed.

The small blonde woman immediately looked up when Roslin entered the day-care. "Madame President, can I help you? Are you lost?"

The older woman smirked and shook her head. "Actually I'm looking for Margaret Vestry's son Tony. She was injured today and I'll be looking after him for a while," Roslin explained.

Timidly, the blonde woman smiled and walked over to a small boy playing with blocks. She took his hand and gently led him over to the president. "Tony, do you know who this is?" she probed.

Tony looked up and smiled. "Ma'am Pres'dent."

Roslin put her hand out to the boy. "Yes. Your mommy's sick right now, so I'm going to take care of you for a little while. Is that alright?"

He turned his head to the side, processing what she had told him. "Mommy be back later?"

"Yes, mommy will come get you later," she relayed.

"Okay, I go," he reasoned, taking Roslin's hand.

They walked down the corridors with Tory following until they reached the meeting. The three stopped and Roslin leaned down toward the boy. "I have a meeting. This is Tory. Can I leave you with Tory for a while?" she tried to persuade him.

He looked from one woman to the other in shock and wrapped his arms around one of Roslin's legs. "No, I stay with you 'til Mommy be back," he mumbled.

Roslin sighed. "Well, I guess that's the end of that idea. You'll just have to be my guest," she told him.

Once again he took her hand and they entered the room. There was normally a slight hush when she entered the room, but today the president was met by dead silence. She smiled and set up Tony in a chair before seating herself. Shortly he had migrated to her lap. "This is Tony and he's visiting today. I know this is unusual, but his mother's in Life Station. She's a friend of mine and I volunteered to look after him for a while."

A slight murmur of discussion passed through the room. Then the head of the committee looked up through his coke-bottle glasses. "Since this meeting will probably have something to do with his future education, he might as well stay." Roslin smiled appreciatively and the meeting began.

She took Tony on a few other errands with her and then they reached the quarters that she shared with the Admiral. Tory followed them to brief Roslin on a few other matters and by the time they reached the hatch, Tony yawned, ready for a nap. The president set him up on her cot and later joined Tory in the living room. She sighed and slipped her shoes off.

"It's been a long day," she stated.

Tory nodded in agreement. "Are you ready to look at the supply status?"

Roslin sighed wearily. "Better now than later," she replied, wondering where the admiral was.

Adama and Tigh had landed in a raptor with a few marines, following a few other groups. As they disembarked in what appeared to be a wheat field, they noticed a make-shift tent settlement and squared off sectors for corn, along with other vegetables.

"I thought we'd be finding wild roots. It looks like we landed in somebody's farm," Tigh mentioned.

Adama nodded in agreement as they walked closer to the tents, not having spotted the _Cassiopeia_ yet. Beyond the crops were a few hills, with crevices and rocks that limited visibility. Adama paused and grasped his sidearm tighter. In the next moment they heard the unmistakable clicks of weapons ready for use.

"Freeze! Freeze trespassers, or die!" an unseen voice called out.

"Everyone stay where you are!" Adama told his people.

The voice spoke again. "No one's supposed to know we're here. How did you find us?"

"Your scrambled message said enough," Tigh added.

"Drop your weapons or we'll shoot!" was the next demand.

"We can't do that. You might be Cylons," the admiral called back.

"Then that's just-" a feminine voice cut off the first voice. "Hold your fire! I

said get that cotton outa your ears and hold your dang fire!"

Adama and Tigh exchanged glances. "There's only one woman in the universe who talks like that," Tigh stated. The admiral nodded as the group continued walking.

They were met by a group of armed military officers, headed by a slim black-haired woman. Her hair was pulled back into a short pony tail and though she walked quickly toward them, she limped. Her crystal-blue eyes glittered as she recognized them.

"Thank the deities the cavalry showed up! I knew it had to be you two. Holy raspberries, I never thought I'd see either of you again," she conveyed, approaching Adama and Tigh.

Both grinned. "It has been a while, Diana. What is all this?" the admiral questioned.

"I'll tell you in a minute," she paused, turning toward her own group. "Listen up! These men and women are colonials like us. I've served with these people and they're no threat to us, so hold your fire. Anyone who shoots deals with me!" she informed them.

"What happened to Falkner?" Tigh asked.

"He was a plum idiot and decided to go mountain-climbin' a few weeks ago. Son-of-a-gun fell and broke a few things. I'm in charge 'til he gets back on his feet," she explained.

They walked over a hill and in the valley was the _Cassiopeia_. It appeared undamaged and Diana could see her guests' curiosity. "Ship's fine, except for navigation. After the first three jumps following the attack on the colonies, our navigation decided to die. We knew it'd be too dangerous to keep jumping blind, so when we ended up here, we figured that the planet would hide us from the Cylons until we could figure out another plan. We've got five hundred people, fourteen of which are new additions," she began.

Adama rubbed his chin with his index finger. "How did you get a shield?"

"We lucked out, having a couple of geniuses onboard. They figured out how to use magnetic frequencies and some other confusing stuff like that to make a shield that'll knock out the electricity in ships that get too close. It also wipes out networks. The fact that you're here says that your ships don't use networks. You two still on _Galactica_?" she inquired.

"Yep, wouldn't be anywhere else," Tigh replied.

"What about the crops?" the admiral asked.

"The planet had some wild stuff. We cultivated that and added some of our own plants. We realized we'd likely be stuck here for a while and made ourselves at home. However, the energy for our shield isn't gonna last much longer, especially if there's a chance we could be back in space. What'er you two doin' out here?"

"The nebula was supposed to be another clue to finding Earth," Adama relayed.

Diana raised an eyebrow. "Earth, huh? Is that were you're goin'? Sounds crazy, but I know you, Bill, and if you think it's where we should be goin,' than I'm in. It'll take us a while to pack up."

Adama glanced back at the crops. "Can you take the food with you?"

She eyed him incredulously. "Hell yes! What good would it be if we couldn't? We've been doin' real well here and we've also got a huge surplus. And we found some animals that make great livestock, these white goat things," she mentioned.

"We've been eating algae. Real food would be terrific," Tigh conveyed.

"Sure, we'll share. Listen, I've got a lot of work to do, briefing my officers. We still have stuff that needs talking about. Could I come back with you guys to your ship after I've told them?" she inquired.

The admiral and the colonel both nodded. "Of course. We'll also send some engineers to fix the navigation," Adama relayed.

A few hours later, Diana joined Tigh and Adama in a raptor as they headed for Galactica. "We also found this temple thing, somethin' to do with the tomb of Hephaestus."

"I'd like to hear more about then when you meet with the president," the admiral commented.

"I forgot about that. It's been so long since we've seen any of you that I don't remember much about what happened in the first few days," she stated.

The three of them walked to Adama's quarters. He opened the hatch to find Laura attempting to show a coloring book to a boy he did not recognize. She looked up and smiled at Adama, standing and walking over to him. "Well, you're back in one piece, Bill. It's certainly been an interesting day," she mentioned as the two hugged and kissed warmly.

Suddenly Roslin realized that there were other people in the room and regained her presidential composure. Adama kept his arms around her waist. Diana glanced at the boy and then back to Roslin and Adama, chuckling. "Bill, you've been busy. I see you've got one up and causing trouble and one on the way. He doesn't look much like you though. Must take after his grandfather or somethin' like that. Better luck with the next one?" she teased.

Roslin blushes scarlet, realizing how the situation must look to a total stranger. She ran a hand through her hair and tried to find her voice. Adama looked at the boy and merely raised an eyebrow. His simple reaction was enough to put her at ease. "My friend, Margaret was injured and I promised that I would look after her son for her until she recovers."

"That's fine. It's time I introduced you to my friend," he paused and brought Diana forward to shake hands with Roslin. "This is Colonel Diana 'Artemis' Genoa. Diana, meet Laura Roslin Adama, President of the Twelve Colonies."

The black-haired woman beamed. "I'm glad he found someone who agrees with him. You look like the kind of person who won't let him hide from himself behind the 'Commander.'"

Roslin grinned back. "He's actually an admiral now, and he knows he can't hide from me."

"It really is great to meet you, ma'am," Diana conveyed. Then she looked over at Adama and gave him a scolding look. "You rascal, why didn't you tell me you got promoted? I'd have introduced you as 'Admiral Adama' to my crew if you'd told me." Glancing back to Tigh, she gave him the same look. "And I expected you to keep a better eye on him, lettin' him go off and get married and forget all about his duties," she goaded them.

The president laughed heartily, deciding that she liked this brash, unusual woman. Adama sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Letting you meet the president seemed more important than telling you I was an admiral at the time."

"Alright, I'll let it go. In fact, I'll even give you two a little space. Saul, how about showing me CIC for a while?" she suggested, stepping closer to Tigh.

He smirked. "I don't know if that's a good-"

"I'll bet you half a corn crop that my CIC's better than yours," she challenged.

They both headed toward the door. "You don't know what you're talkin' about. Our CIC's the best all around," he said as they left.

"What did you find down there?" Roslin inquired, giving a crayon to Tony and making sure that he did not eat it.

"They have food that they've grown as well as livestock, and they're willing to share it with us," the admiral responded.

She grinned. "That's fantastic. What about their shield?"

"They don't have enough energy to maintain it, so as soon as we can get their navigation systems repaired, they'll come with us. They have around five hundred people and from what I remember about the _Cassiopeia_, they're well-armed too," he replied as he got himself a glass of water and sat on the couch.

Joining him, she kept her eyes on the boy as he continued coloring. "I wonder why we were supposed to come here," she mused.

He took a long gulp of water before speaking. "She said they found the tomb of Hephaestus."

Roslin raised an eyebrow. "I'll ask her about that when she gets back."

"What did you think of her?" he inquired.

Smiling in thought, she turned to face him. "She's quite a character. What happened to Commander Falkner?"

"He was in charge, but apparently he had a hiking accident recently. Diana knows what she's doing," Adama answered.

"She wasn't an old flame of yours, was she?" Roslin probed.

The admiral chuckled and shook his head. "If I had a little sister, she'd be it. I can't speak for Saul, but to me she's a sister. I can't promise the same for her though regarding Saul."

The president glanced over at the door. "Does he know?"

"I don't know, but he'll figure it out soon enough. What happened with your friend?" he asked, glancing at the boy.

"Margaret was apparently knocked unconscious when something fell on her in a storage closet. I have Tory looking at the security tape right now to see what Baltar was doing at the time. He brought her to Life Station and insists that he did nothing wrong. Even Margaret says that it was not his fault," Roslin explained as Adama reached out to take one of her hands in his. She blushed and leaned on his shoulder for a while.

A knock at the door told them that their guest had returned. Adama let Diana back in to the room and she sat at the desk chair. "You run a good ship, Bill," she relayed.

He smiled. "I should hope so. We'd like to know more about the tomb of Hephaestus, if you don't mind."

"Sure. There were some stones and carvings, stuff on our mythology. You can come check it out if you want, but you aren't missin' much if you don't. We did ended up with some scrolls there though in some pots, missin' prophecies or somethin' nutty like that. They were in the tomb of Hephaestus. If you want 'em, you can have 'em because I sure don't have use for them," Diana mentioned.

Adama and Roslin exchanged glances. "That would be great," Roslin expressed.

While they waited for Diana to return, someone else knocked. Adama answered the door and found his son standing there. "Sir, I know the last time we spoke, it wasn't on good terms. But can we talk?"

The admiral glanced back at the president, who nodded. Though she had a few choice words for Lee, she wanted to hear what he had to say. Adama stepped aside and let his son enter the room. "Well?" the older man prodded.

Lee first looked over at Roslin. "Ma'am, I'm sorry about what Lampkin asked you. I don't know if you'll ever be able to forgive me, especially for the side I chose. I had to go with what I felt was right, and I'm sorry that I hurt you in the process."

She glanced down at her hands and sighed, as if summing up her thoughts. Then she looked up at him. "The road to the goals we think are right seems to be paved with potholes these days. What you did hurt, and I still don't fully understand it, but what kind of person would I be if I held a grudge against you for standing with something you believed in? What are you looking for, Lee?" she asked calmly.

He looked from her to his father. "I keep pushing the only family I have away. Dee was mad at me to and walked out. I want to fix things. I'm tired of leaving my family. Dad, I'm sorry."

The older man took a deep breath and placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "You got what you wanted out of the trial because you were right about a few things. It wasn't right to put all the blame on one person. We know you flew the last time we were attacked. Do you want to be part of the military again too?"

Lee could not gage his father's opinion on the matter. "Sir, I want to do my duty and follow orders again, yes, but first I want to be part of this family again," he admitted.

Father and son shared a look that Roslin could not read before the two men hugged. She heard Adama whisper, "Welcome back."

Then Lee looked back to her. "Do you think you could forgive me in time?"

Placing a hand on top of his, she smiled slowly. "I suppose. You might even be able to vindicate yourself if you volunteer to baby-sit once in a while."

He grinned and they all chuckled softly before the younger man stood. "Thanks. I need to find Dee," he stated as he left.

"At least we've got one less thing to worry about," Adama concluded after Lee had closed the hatch.

Roslin smiled softly. "It'll take more time, but it will be alright. We've all taken the first steps to getting along again and repairing things."

After they had received the scrolls, Roslin sat behind Adama's desk, studying them. The admiral was leafing through reports from the _Cassiopeia_ on the planet when the president interrupted him. "Bill, come here. I think you might find this interesting."

"What is it?" he asked, leaning over her shoulder.

"I'll read it. 'The wasting disease of the prophetess will be cured by the blood of half-demon. A wizened warrior shall command at her side,'" she paused as he raised an eyebrow.

"'Wizened' must have been the word they used for 'old' when this was written," he stated wryly.

She smirked and shook her head. "I don't think you're old. And the next part gets even more interesting. 'They shall wed and the child they shall conceive will know the way to the lost tribe.'"

"Which means that our situation just got a lot more complicated," he commented.

"Possibly, but listen to this part too. 'Another wizened warrior with falsely perceive himself to be a demon, but in truth he hears what the demons hear and will identify one of them.' I'm not sure if it refers to Saul at that point, but these scrolls are probably the most interesting that we've come across," she remarked.

"It could. Diana's probably going to chase him down again," Adama mentioned.

Roslin smirked. "She seems to have a crush on him."

"She's known him for twenty years. When he married Ellen, Diana swore celibacy and I don't think she's broken it," the admiral mentioned wryly.

"Perhaps she'll be good for him," Roslin suggested. "She has a lot of energy and I can't believe some of what comes out of her mouth."

Adama grinned. "She's one of a kind. She can be nice, or she can be as stubborn as you or I, but you won't forget her."

"May that be said for all of us," Roslin added with a smile.

Tony slept on Roslin's cot that night while she and Adama squeezed into his bed. In the middle of the night both woke to the sound of crying. Closest to the edge, Roslin left the bed first, grabbing her bathrobe. "I'll check on him, you just go back to sleep," she suggested.

Adama sat up and watched as she moved the sheet-curtain aside to reach the boy. He was sitting up on the cot, looking around with tears streaking his face. "Oh you poor thing," Roslin exclaimed softly.

"I want Mommy!" he wailed, having awakened in an unfamiliar dark place.

Roslin sat down next to him and pulled him onto her lap. "Do you remember me?"

He studied her for a while and then nodded. "Ma'am Pres'dent, I want Mommy."

"I promise we'll see her in the morning, alright? You're safe here," she tried to reassure him.

She found Adama still sitting up when she returned, having convinced Tony to go back to bed. "You're pretty good with kids," he told her with a smile.

"I did teach kindergarten. He's a sweet kid, he just misses his mother," she stated, crawling back into bed, sighing.

"Worried you'll be a bad parent?" he probed.

"Yes," she answered quietly, turning to face him.

He pulled her closer and kissed her gently. "I think you'll do fine. I'm the one who could stand to learn a few things."

"Thank you. Goodnight, Bill," she mentioned quietly, resting her hands on his chest.

"Goodnight, Laura," he whispered as he kissed her forehead.

(My thanks to carolann, Kiyani, and Izabella Black for reviewing :D)


	11. A friend in need

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel. Margaret Vestry and Colonel Diana 'Artemis' Genoa are mine.

Chapter 11: A friend in need

Roslin's first duty of the morning was to bring Tony to see Margaret. Cottle had told the president that the women could receive visitors and would be out in another day. The doctor also had another interesting piece of information.

"Baltar came by to visit her. Seems like he feels really bad about what happened. If he caused it, I don't think it's on purpose. For a reason I'm drawing a blank on, he wants her to think well of him," the doctor relayed.

"You know as well as I do that he can be manipulative. Keep an eye on him when he visits," Roslin advised before approaching Margaret's bed.

"Did you think that I wouldn't?" Cottle added as he walked over to another patient.

The woman smiled and sat up slowly, seeing her son. "Tony, come here, sweetheart," she paused as Roslin set him on Margaret's bed. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, Mommy," he replied as he cuddled close to her.

She glanced at Roslin. "Has he been good?"

"Yes," the older woman nodded. "But he misses you. He woke up last night wanting to see you."

"I can't tell you how much I appreciate you watching him. Cottle says I should be out by tomorrow. It's okay to leave him in day-care, you know," Margaret mentioned.

Roslin smiled. "I know."

"Oh, and if he wakes up again, what you can do is sing Caprican folk songs. He likes those," the boy's mother suggested.

"I'll keep that in mind. I don't have the world's best singing voice, but I could try it," the president agreed.

Margaret motioned for Roslin to sit on the bed for a moment. "Have you picked out any names for your little one yet?"

Roslin blushed for a moment. "No. We've been too busy," she replied.

"Something will come to you and then you will not be able to get it out of your head," Margaret informed her. "Baltar came by to visit me too. He's terribly worried about me."

"So you think his concern is genuine then?" Roslin questioned.

The other woman smirked. "He's probably worried that if I do not return to the lab, he will be forced to work with someone who will do nothing productive and waste time complaining about all the things he has done wrong."

Not wanting the boy to sit through a four-hour Quorum meeting, Roslin decided to leave him in day-care. Adama had gone to CIC that morning, continuing scans of the planet and the area as well as keeping an eye on the movement of people and resources.

By the afternoon, Tigh's shift had ended and the admiral had let him leave, noting that though he was back on duty, something was still bothering his old friend. As the afternoon continued, a raptor from the _Cassiopeia_ asked to dock. Diana entered CIC later, looking around the room.

"Bill, have you seen Saul?" she inquired.

He raised an eyebrow. "So you only came to visit with him?" Adama teased.

She snorted and shook her head. "He disappeared after showin' me CIC and I've got some catchin' up to do."

"I understand. We have a rec center of sorts in one of the hangers. He's done with his shift for today and you might find him there," the admiral answered.

"Thanks," she replied before heading off.

Diana found Tigh at a table near the bar on the hanger deck, nursing his drink and staring off into the distance. She walked over to him and seized the chair across from him. "What's goin' on, Saul?" she questioned.

"Go on, Diana, I'm not good company right now," he muttered, taking another gulp of the gold liquor in his glass.

She clamped a hand over his drink and pulled it away. "You've had enough."

He glared at her. "Diana, this is none of your damn business."

"Then I'm makin' it my business. Now what in the sam-hell is goin' on?" she demanded.

Folding his hands in front of him, he sighed heavily in defeat. "I'm a frakkin' Cylon," he grumbled.

Diana snorted. "If you're a Cylon, then I'm a teakettle."

"It's true," he argued.

"Ah spit, you ain't a Cylon. You do some plum stupid things every once in a while, but being a Cylon's not one of 'em," she remarked, her statement punctuated by her fist hitting the table.

He tried to explain what had happened. "But I was hearing-"

"I don't care what you heard. Your hearin's always been better than anyone I've known," she interjected. Her accent always became heavier when she was around him because he made her feel comfortable. Standing to lean over the table so that she could look him in the eye, she continued. "I've known your sorry ass for twenty years. You ain't a Cylon and that's a fact."

"I know what you're tryin' to do, but it won't work, Diana," he retorted.

"Why the hell not?" she demanded.

He reached for his drink again, but she pulled it back. "Because it doesn't change anything. I'm the enemy. I'll fight to the death not to let them win, but I'm one of them," he whispered.

"You're talkin' crazy, you know. I don't know what's goin' on, but the only thing I do know is that you ain't a Cylon. I'm gonna help you find whoever caused whatever you heard. I haven't seen anybody from anywhere else for around two years. I don't have the slightest idea what's been goin' on. I didn't want to ask you about your eye, but I think I need to," she remarked.

Standing, he took his glass from her hand and walked it back to the bar, leaving it with the bar tender and returning to her. "I'll tell you, but not here," he stated.

She followed him back to his quarters and as they entered, she had the uneasy feeling that something was missing. Sitting on his couch, she looked around, toward the bedroom and in the direction of the bathroom. Tigh offered her a glass of water. She accepted and he sat next to her. After taking a gulp, she spoke.

"Where's Ellen?" she asked simply.

He looked out at the wall and took a deep breath. "Dead, died on New Caprica. Lost my eye there too," he relayed.

"I'm so sorry, Saul. What was 'New Caprica,' and why were you there?" Diana continued.

Tigh told her about the election and Baltar becoming president. Then they talked about the resistance movement and the rescue. Next he told her about the trial. "Gaius frakking Baltar's a free man now," Tigh vexed.

"Holy raspberries, you people sure know how to get yourselves into one doozy of a mess," Diana expressed.

He nodded. "Now we're just hoping to get to Earth before the Cylons do."

"And what are you gonna do?" she probed, making things personal again.

Sitting up straight, he faced her. "I'm gonna kick their metallic asses if they try anything funny."

She laughed and shook her head. "I like that idea, but it's not what I meant."

"Got a job to do. Past that I don't know," he admitted.

Standing, she gave him a warm smile. "Maybe I can come up with somethin' of interest. Can you tell me more about the music you were hearin'?"

He nodded. "It was some song that all four of us could hear. I heard it from all over the ship."

"Was there any place it was stronger in?" she inquired.

Thinking for a moment, he turned back to her. "Yeah. I heard it louder in the court room, and then in the halls."

She rubbed her chin. "Maybe instead of lookin' for where the music was comin' from, you need to ask yourself who was in the same place as you that might've been tryin' to cause trouble," she suggested.

"The only person who's caused me trouble lately is that pain-in-the-ass defense attorney, Lampkin," Tigh relayed.

"Could've been him then. You told me that Bill's son's been workin' with him. Why don't you ask him if he knows anything?" she mentioned.

Tigh sighed and shook his head. "Lee isn't on speaking terms with most people right now."

"I see. I need to get back to my ship, but you'll see me again," she added before leaving.

On her way back, she accidentally walked right into Lee. "Sorry ma'am, I didn't see you. I was distracted," he explained.

"It's alright I-" she paused, realizing who he was. "You're Bill's son, aren't you?"

"Yes, how did you know? I've never seen you here before," he questioned.

"I'm Colonel Genoa, an old friend of Saul's as well as your father. Maybe you can help clear up a mystery for me. I've got a friend who needs to know about this Lampkin guy you worked with," she began.

The younger man raised an eyebrow and eyed her with curiosity. "He does his own thing, comes off as a loaner. His cat's annoying too."

"Did he have a briefcase or somethin' like that?" she asked.

"Yeah, but he kept the strangest things in it. He took things from people to learn more about them," Lee replied.

He was about to continue on his way until she stopped him. "One more thing, did he have any sort of sound or recordin' device?"

"I suppose he could have, but I don't know. I've gotta go," Lee relayed. She nodded and let him continue on his way, trying to think of how to get a hold of the defense attorney.

Later on her ship, she received a call from the admiral and headed over to meet him as his Raptor landed. "So you want to talk to Falkner?" she assumed.

Adama nodded. "I need to let him know that I'm willing to talk with more than just you," he said with a smile.

"Follow me," she stated, leading him toward Life Station on the Cassiopeia.

Commander Bernard Falkner looked to be a balding man in his late seventies. His left arm and leg were in casts, suspended in slings. A nurse removed an ice pack from his right eye, revealing a purple bruise. Adama also noticed a heart monitor and a few other machines. Diana stepped over to the man.

"Admiral Adama wanted to see you, sir," she told him.

The commander smiled. "Well, it's good to know that you won't be going over my head if he wants to talk to me," Falkner goaded her.

She threw her hands up in mock-disgust. "Fine, then. I can tell when I'm not wanted." Heading toward the door, she looked toward Adama. "He's all yours, Bill. You can tell him he was a plum idiot for goin' on that hike," she mentioned before leaving.

Adama stepped over to Falkner and took the chair next to the bed. "Nice you could drop in, Bill," he conveyed.

"It's good to see you, Bernard," the admiral responded. "Diana told me you had a hiking accident. Didn't she realize it was this bad?"

Falkner shook his head, his eyes not completely focusing on the admiral. "I told Doc to tell her squat about it. I won't have her keeping some frakking deathbed vigil for me," he expressed. "Fortunately she sees what she wants to sometimes."

"Did the hiking accident cause all this?" the admiral questioned.

The man on the bed took a slow, labored breath. "She's right about me being an idiot. I just wanted a good look at the land. I've got a lot more wrong than she knows. I found out that I had a brain tumor, but I wasn't going to risk telling her. She's been like a daughter to me and the best damn XO I've ever worked with. And I've no doubt she can command the ship as well as take good care of the crew. Truth is I don't have long, Bill. You've got my permission to negotiate everything with her. She's been managing things for years. I'm going to promote her the next time I see her. I'm can't tell her about my health though. I need you to tell her."

Adama smiled sadly. "I'll do that, old friend."

"Thanks. Is Saul Tigh still on your ship?" Falkner inquired. The admiral nodded and the commander responded with, "She'll be fine then."

The other man stood. "I should let you rest."

"Thanks for stopping by, Bill," Falkner stated.

"It's no problem," Adama added.

The admiral returned to his quarters to find Roslin and Tory reading through reports while Tony played with blocks by their feet. When Roslin glanced over at him, she noticed the melancholy mood. "Tory, could you leave us alone for a while?" she requested.

She nodded and stood. "I'll take Tony for a walk too," Tory suggested.

"That would be fine," Roslin agreed. When they had gone, she turned back to Adama. "Bill, are you alright?"

He sighed heavily and sank into his desk chair. She bent down and gave him a hug as he spoke. "Falkner's dying and Diana doesn't know. He wants me to take all my negotiations to her, and he also wants me to be the one to tell her he's dying."

"What are you going to do?" she asked softly.

"Tell her. She deserves to know," he replied, reaching out to rub her hand. "What'd you do today?"

She understood his need for distraction. "Tory's been watching the security tape from the lab and it seems that Baltar was telling the truth about Margaret's accident not being his fault."

"I suppose the odds are that he'd be right about something," Adama said wryly as they moved to the couch.

Roslin smirked. "Unfortunately."

"How's Tony doing?" the admiral inquired.

"I left him in day-care for the morning because I didn't want to make him sit through a four-hour Quorum meeting. Margaret will be out by tomorrow morning, so Tony will be with us again tonight. He's doing better with the situation. Tory doesn't seem to scare him anymore," Roslin mentioned with a smile.

"She can be pretty intimidated," he joked. "How's your friend?"

"Nearly as articulate as she usually is. She told me that if Tony wakes up again, I should try singing Caprican folk songs to him," Roslin relayed. "She also asked me if we had picked out any names for our baby."

He cupped her cheek with his hand and kissed her warmly. "We've got time."

She nodded. "Yes, and I really do need to read more of the scrolls."

"Have you found out anything else with the scrolls?" he probed.

Roslin shook her head. "I haven't had a chance to look over the rest of them," she paused as she heard the door. "I think they're back. How about dinner?"

He kissed her gently and smiled as he stood. "I think tonight I'll use your idea and see if cooking is really relaxing. You read the scrolls and I'll make dinner."

She glanced over at Tory, who had just entered the room. Tony had gone back to his blocks. "I think we're done with the reports for today?"

The aide nodded. "Yes, Madame President," she stated as she picked up the folders and left.

As Adama fried algae patties, Roslin scanned the scrolls. There was only one that she had not unrolled. The final scroll contained what appeared to be constellations and another nebula, but it made little sense to her. She rubbed her eyes, hoping that something would come to her later.

That night she had a dream. She was back on Kobol looking up at the stars in the tomb of Athena. Then the stars changed to those on the scroll she had been looking at and she was able to recognize a path. The nebula from the scroll was the end destination. She sat up in bed and headed toward Adama's desk, trying not to wake him as she slipped out. Quickly she unrolled the scroll and copied down the connection from her dream on a piece of paper. A hand on her shoulder startled her and she looked over to see the admiral.

"Some nights I'm a light sleeper. What are you doing up?" he inquired, squinting at the light.

She held up the piece of paper. "It didn't make sense to me when I looked at the scroll earlier. Then I had a dream that put it all together. These constellations are a successive path toward this nebula and whatever we need to find next is there," she explained.

"And you had this dream without taking anything?" he inquired.

"I think it might have something to do with the prophecy and the baby," she relayed.

He rubbed his chin with his index finger. "Then we might have a reason now for why the Cylons wanted you. They thought their experiment could help them find Earth," he suggested.

"Which means that they knew about the scrolls in the tomb of Hephaestus, they read them somehow, and they will probably try to capture me again," she assessed.

After he rested a hand on her shoulder to reassure her that she was safe, he yawned and blinked before the paper came into focus. "We'll cross that bridge if we come to it. I'll check this out with the star charts in the morning."

"Bill, go back bed. I really didn't mean to wake you up," she mentioned, chewing her lip with embarrassment.

"It's alright. You just owe me a cup of coffee in the morning and the first shower," he told her wryly.

She smiled back and followed him to bed, deciding that whatever else needed to be done could let her sleep for a while longer. "Of course."

With new constellations to follow, the crew in CIC had a destination as they studied the star charts. The evacuation of the planet and the reloading of the _Cassiopeia_ took another week and every spare hand from all of the ships helped. Before they prepared to leave, Adama met with Tigh, Roslin, and Diana, knowing what he had to tell her after they discussed ship's business and inventory.

"Ship's ready to go, Bill. Thanks again for the help," Diana conveyed.

"You're welcome," he replied, not meeting her eyes.

She raised an eyebrow. "Somethin' goin' on that I should know?"

He sighed heavily and faced her. "When I spoke with Falkner, he told me that all transactions were to go through you," Adama began.

"That's not a problem. What's wrong?" she probed.

"Falkner also told me that he was dying. He didn't want you spending all your time by his bed, so he wanted me to tell you," the admiral relayed.

Diana eyed him incredulously. "But somebody would've said somethin' before now. I'm his XO!"

Adama touched her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Diana, but it's true."

She got to her feet and took a deep breath. "If you'd all excuse me a moment, there's somethin' I need to do."

As she walked toward the door, Tigh stood and followed her. "You want someone to fly you over-"

"I'll be alright," she interjected.

Tigh found her sitting at a table off to the side of the hanger, staring at a full glass of liquor two days later. "Well, this looks familiar," he remarked. She glanced up at him and gave him a half-smile. "Mind if I take a seat?" he asked.

"Go ahead," she told him quietly.

He pulled out a chair and sat across from her. "I see you haven't touched it," he stated, pointing to the drink.

"Didn't see a reason to hurry," she replied. To appease him she took a sip, but immediately spat it back out. "Holy raspberries, this stuff's bad. You've got moonshine here, Saul."

Taking the glass from her and setting it back on the table, he chuckled. "This is the better version. We've had a lot worse. It's not so bad when that's all you've got. How are you holdin' up?" he asked her.

She stretched out her collar so that he could see the new pin. "Falkner promoted me to commander."

"Congratulations are in order then," Tigh mentioned.

Running a hand through her black hair, she looked away. "He's got two weeks left. If he'd told me-"

"People sometimes don't tell others about their health because they don't want to be looked at like invalids. He was tryin' to do what he thought was best," Tigh cut in.

They stood, deciding to leave the hanger. "That doesn't make it any easier," she remarked.

He placed a hand on her shoulder and nodded. "Yeah. Dying's the easy part. Living takes a lot more work. Like I told somebody else a while ago, one day you just decide to get up and walk on your own."

"I should go back to my ship. Thanks, Saul," she conveyed with a ghost of a smile. He grasped her forearm for a moment and smiled sympathetically.

"Any time, Diana," he replied as he watched her go.

(My thanks to carolann, Kiyani, and Mariel3 for reviewing :D)


	12. On the road again

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel. Margaret Vestry and Colonel Diana 'Artemis' Genoa are mine.

Chapter 12: On the road again

Over the next two months, Adama sent Tigh over to the _Cassiopeia_ to help Diana. She appeared not to need the help, running her CIC almost as smoothly as the admiral had, but when people came to her with reports, she ran them by Tigh. After looking at reports on the status of the livestock, she and Tigh walked over to her office in CIC behind the glass partition.

"I never realized how much trouble takin' care of those things was gonna be in space," she relayed. "They're runnin' amok! They don't do a dang thing you want 'em to do either. It's been one doozy of a mess tryin' to coral those four-legged rugs," she had nicknamed the creatures. The animals resembled something between a goat and a cow, also having white bushy fur coats.

He nodded. "At least it gives jobs to a few more people, and they seem to like the algae."

"It's easier than hay to feed 'em. I suppose it'd work; humans get the real food while livestock lick up the green goop," she paused and exchanged a smile with Tigh. Taking out her hair band for a moment, she sighed and closed her eyes, running a hand through her hair. "I'm plum tired of space already. I don't much care for livin' in a tin can all day, and I miss the sun already. Stars alone ain't good enough," she muttered, placing her hands against a console and leaning forward.

"Ah, it's not so bad. You'll get used to it again," he reassured her, placing a hand on top of hers.

She turned her head to look over at him and smiled again. "I'm glad Bill let you come over for a while. Just hope that your workin' with me won't interferin' with your duties from him. I'd sooner see one of those four-legged rugs loose on the bridge than be your excuse to be late for work."

He chuckled, picturing one of the creatures running around CIC. "Nope, Bill knows what he's doing. And if he doesn't, Laura does. Want some coffee?" he offered.

"Yeah, that'd hit the spot about now," she answered.

He left and returned after a few minutes with two metallic Battlestar standard mugs. She accepted hers and nodded in thanks. He spoke after glancing at the screens in her office. "You never said if you married or not. I'd have figured being down on the planet you might've settled."

She laughed and shook her head. "Someone'd have to be a few gears short to try that one. You really think anybody could stand me long enough for that? Plus I'm forty and nobody's interested when you've passed thirty-five."

"You aren't so bad," he conveyed, laughing with her.

Taking another gulp of coffee, she eyed him incredulously before grinning wryly. "Are you kiddin'? I'm opinionated and I talk to dang much."

Her responses had been quick, he realized, and he wondered what she was not saying. "You're pushy and stubborn too, but that's not always a bad thing. At least you didn't drown yourself in liquor," he added.

She snorted and faced him. "That's because one glass of that moonshine you've got on your ship would've killed me. Stuff'll burn the metal off the hull!"

"Probably," he added, chuckling. They stood close to each other as they finished their coffee. Tigh transferred the cup from his left hand to his right so that he could place an arm around Diana's shoulders. She raised an eyebrow, uncertain if she should hope, but then chuckled softly. He looked toward the viewscreen and wondered how the admiral was fairing on _Galactica_.

Adama had returned to his quarters that morning for a report on the evacuations. He opened the hatch to find Roslin at the desk organizing her own paperwork for the day. Walking over to the desk, he leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Have you seen the files on the people from the _Cassiopeia_?" he inquired.

She smiled and handed him what he was looking for. "Are you working without Saul again?"

"Thanks, this is exactly what I needed. I'll have him back when I'm certain that Diana's fine. She took Falkner's death better than I expected. I'm sure she's capable of managing the ship, but if he's there for her to lean on just in case, then I don't have to worry as much," Adama relayed.

"It sounds as though you've included her as family," Roslin stated.

He flipped through the file. "She might as well be." The two shared amused smiles.

Roslin stood and stretched. "From what I understand, she has perseverance and tenacity. If anyone can survive through difficult situations, it will be Diana."

"You're probably right," the admiral stated with a smile.

She abruptly stopped and put a hand on the desk. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that," she commented.

Adama raised an eyebrow. "What?" he asked with a hint of concern as he walked over to her.

She smirked and took one of his hands. Then she pressed it to her abdomen and he felt the baby kick. "This. It's the strangest feeling," she remarked. Being about five and a half months along, she was noticing how active the baby had become.

He chuckled and let his other hand drift to her cheek. Then he brushed her cheek with his thumb. She giggled and he realized that there was one thing he had always wanted to do when she did that. Leaning forward he kissed her tenderly. When he pulled back she raised a stunned eyebrow. On the second kiss she met him halfway.

Then she spoke with a smirk. "What was that for?"

Grinning, he kissed her softly again. "Because."

The ringing of the phone interrupted their moment. He reached over and picked it up. "Adama. I'd almost forgotten about that. Thanks Jack, we'll be there shortly." He turned to face her as he hung up. "We've got a doctor's appointment."

She ran a hand through her hair. "I forgot completely. I think he mentioned at the last one that he wanted to do an ultrasound," she stated.

They left and headed for Life Station. Cottle noticed that Roslin was still slightly squeamish about being slightly exposed in front of Adama. "This'll only work if you lift up your shirt a bit," he reminded.

They watched the screen with interest while Cottle moved one end of the ultrasonic device around Roslin's abdomen. She could not help flinching. "Sorry if it's cold," Cottle stated.

She shook her head. "Actually it tickles," she admitted.

Soon an image materialized on the screen. Adama held one of Roslin's hands as they watched the baby move. "Looks like you two are gonna have a healthy baby girl," Cottle told them. "Usually it takes longer for the baby to move so information like that is visible, but I guess this little one didn't want her parents guessing for much longer."

"Oh my," Roslin said quietly.

"She's perfect," Adama said quietly.

Roslin glanced up at him and noticed that his glasses were off. "Yes, she is."

Adama turned to face Roslin and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. Cottle watched the two and rolled his eyes. "Most couples at times like this kiss each other," he reminded.

The other two glared at him, but then listened to his suggestion. They kissed soundly and only pulled away when the phone rang. Cottle answered it and then handed the phone to Roslin. "It's Tory."

She nodded and accepted the phone. "Hello Tory, what? No, I think- well I suppose we could. Is it really that necessary to- okay. I'll be there in twenty minutes." Handing the phone back to Cottle, she explained the conversation to Adama. "I've got to meet with the labor committee in half an hour to discuss the job rotations again."

"Want me to tag along?" the admiral asked.

She smiled and shook her head. "It'll be fine."

They went their separate ways, him to CIC and her to the meeting, each mulling over their thoughts quietly. _I should've told her. After the past few months, I can't imagine not having her around. She's become so much more than my friend_, Adama mused as he stepped into CIC.

Roslin had similar thoughts on her way to the meeting. _I'm so glad that he's been here for me to lean on. It's difficult to admit, and it would put is in unfamiliar territory, but I think the truth is that we're more than friends. I cannot imagine my life without him_, she thought to herself, entering the room.

The committee was composed of twelve people who liked oddly as though they would like to have been somewhere else. She took a seat at one end of a long table. "Alright ladies and gentlemen, where shall we start?"

Half an hour into the meeting, Roslin had to excuse herself to use the bathroom. The other members seemed to understand and let her go. However, she discovered as she tried to leave the tiny closet-like area later that the door was stuck. "This is just my luck. I don't remember asking the deities for patience today," she said aloud, fiddling with the door handle.

Sighing, she slumped against the wall and tried to think of a plan. Suddenly, she heard the main door in the other room break down and people shouting. Shots were fired and she heard a man's voice say, "Alright, we represent the people you're sending to the wrong jobs and you're our hostages 'til we get what we want."

"And that would be?" someone dared to ask.

Roslin flinched as she heard the man who had asked be struck with something. The other voice answered, "We want public acknowledgment and our labor demands met."

A woman spoke in a shaky voice. "That's what we're negotiating at the moment. You've got a union too."

The woman shrieked as she was struck. Someone picked up a phone and dialed. "Hey Adama, get a reporter down here to the labor committee meeting or the hostages die. What? You can't speak to her because she's not here. Looks like she was late or never bothered to show up, but we'll keep an eye out for her," he stated as he hung up the phone.

_Oh, this is bad. Now Bill thinks that I'm missing. I really hope someone gets here soon_, Roslin worried. In CIC Adama paced back and forth. "Sir, what'll we do?" Dee asked.

He sighed heavily. "I don't know, but we need to figure out where the president is. If she's not there, she has to be somewhere else," he stated logically.

"The man wants a reporter. Maybe if we send one, he'll let the people go," Dee mentioned.

Adama shook his head. "We don't deal with terrorists. I wish we had a better option."

"Sir, what if we sent someone under cover, someone that they wouldn't know?" Gaeta suggested.

The admiral paced again. "But where are we going to find…" he trailed off, seeing the _Cassiopeia_ on the view screen. "I've got an idea."

After making a quick call, Adama had Tigh and Diana back on _Galactica_ and explained the situation to them. "Sure I can handle it," Diana relayed. "I'll get that son-of-a-gun to let your people go, then I'll pretend to interview 'im."

"I'll hide with the marines for backup," Tigh added.

Shortly Diana, dressed in a grape suite with a notepad in her hand, knocked on the door. There was no sound so she knocked again. After receiving another empty response, she huffed. "Hey, I thought you dang people-hoarders wanted an interview. I don't have all day. If you wanna talk, then open the dang door."

A tall, lean, sneering man opened the door and glowered at her. She was unflappable and merely raised an eyebrow. "Get it," he growled.

She stepped into the room and the door closed behind her. The hostages were seated shoulder to shoulder on the floor, with two looking a bit beaten up. Diana pulled out a chair and watched the man as she sat. "I'm sorry all I have is a pad and paper. My listenin' device broke. Now, who the heck are you and what do you want?" she asked bluntly.

"What kind of reporter are you? Didn't they tell you anything?" another man retorted.

"They expect me to tell them somethin' and not the other way around. Now, are we gonna start, or are you gonna keep askin' me questions, because if you're gonna ask me stuff, maybe you should be the one writin' the story," she remarked.

The leader sighed and glared at her again. "Fine. My name's Herbert Schwartz. I'm a close and personal friend of Xeno Fenner," he began.

Roslin was still hiding in the locked bathroom. Hearing Diana's voice, she felt relief and hope that the problem might be resolved without further injury. Diana began writing, looking up frequently to the sounds of fear from the hostages. Finally she set her pen down and faced the others. "Look, I can't work with these people sittin' here like that. How about you let 'em go and we can continue?" she persuaded.

They grumbled and then let the hostages stand. Diana walked over toward the entryway. "I'll get the door," she offered. After the hostages left, she carefully placed something small in the latch so that the door would not completely lock. She made a production of letting the mechanism click into place and the took her seat.

She wrote down more information and then sighed heavily. "I can't do this with you fellas pointin' guns at me. Makes me uncomfortable. You can see that it's just me and the door's lock, so I would appreciate it if you'd put down your dang guns," she instructed.

Looking at the door and then at each other, they complied. Half a minute later, Tigh and the marines burst into the room and quickly arrested the unarmed me. As they were shackled, a man with sunglasses and a blue suit wandered through the doorway. "That's him," Tigh whispered to Diana.

She walked over to this new addition. "Can I help you, sir?"

"No, I just came to see how these people were being led off. They might need a trial and I wanted to know if any of them would be interested in my services," he stated, studying Diana.

"You an attorney?" she inquired.

"Romo Lampkin," he answered.

Looking at her pad of paper, she flipped back to the first page. "I'm a reporter. My listen' device is busted and I was wonderin' if you had one I could borrow for a day or so."

Though her accent made him curious, he decided that she was serious in her need and unzipped his bag. Then he handed her the small device. "I want it back by tomorrow. Meet me on the hanger deck."

"Sure thing, sir," she replied, not allowing him to see any connection between herself and Tigh.

Soon the only people left in the room were Diana and Tigh. "What do you think happened to the president?" he asked her.

The new commander's eyes darted around the room. "If I were here, I'd be hidin' someplace," she stated.

Hearing this, Roslin decided that it was safe to make her presence known. She pounded her fists against the door. "I'm over here. The door got stuck!" she called out.

They heard her and rushed over. Tigh managed to pull the door open and a grateful president stepped out. "So that's what happened," Diana stated.

"Yes, I got locked in, and then I heard those people break in. Could someone tell me what's been going on? I've only heard pieces of it," Roslin requested.

"Sure, Ma'am, but we'll tell you on the way to CIC so Bill knows you're alright," Tigh commented.

Diana and Tigh filled Roslin in on the action she had missed, finishing at the door to CIC. The president passed through and made her way down into the middle of it. Adama glanced up and smiled in relief as he walked toward her. Pulling her into a warm embrace, he kissed her softly. She returned the kiss and the two held each other for a moment. Then he seemed to remember that they were not alone.

"What happened? Where've you been?" he questioned with concern.

She told him about being stuck in the bathroom and then Diana explained the rest. "It's been a long day," Roslin mentioned.

"From now on, I'm coming with you to meetings," he stated, leaving no room for argument.

"That's fine," she agreed. "I think I'll be content to go back to observing Margaret and Baltar for a while."

Adama and Roslin returned to their quarters after a while. She sat down on the couch, resting her head on the back of it. He headed to the kitchen and returned with a glass of water for them both. "Thank you. It's been a long day," she stated.

He nodded and took a gulp of water. "I'm not quite sure what to do with Fender's friends. Right now we need every able-bodied person to be doing something."

"Maybe if Chief Tyrol has a talk with them, they might be more apt to return to work," she said with a sigh as she leaned on his shoulder.

Placing an arm around her shoulders, he held her for a moment, thanking every deity that he could name that she was safe as he kissed the top of her head. "It was lucky that you got stuck in the bathroom instead of being out there with those people," he mentioned.

She looked into his eyes and seemed to divine his concern. "At first I thought that the deities were testing my patience. I suppose in a roundabout way, my needing to use the bathroom more probably saved my life."

"Stranger things have happened," he added. They sat in comfortable silence for a while before he spoke again. "Now that we know, we should probably come up with some names for the baby," he reminded.

Smiling, she draped one of her hands lightly over her abdomen. "How about 'Aurora?'"

"It's a good name, but I'd like to reserve the names of the deities for call signs. How does 'Louisa' sound?" he suggested.

Roslin shook her head. "I had a rabbit that I named 'Louisa,' and I don't want to think of the rabbit every time I use our daughter's name. 'Beatrice' is a nice name. We would end up having two Adamas with BA initials and we already have two with LA initials."

Adama snorted. "It's creative, but I'm not trying to play letter games with people's names. And technically I'm WA and you're LRA," he paused and she rolled her eyes. "I know I'm making this more difficult, but I just don't like the name 'Beatrice.' I had an aunt named 'Beatrice' and she was hard to get along with. What about 'Marjorie?'"

She adamantly shook her head. "I don't like the name. 'Marjorie' has too many strange nicknames. 'Serena' is a nice name."

He chuckled and shook his head. "Maybe today wasn't the best day for this."

Roslin stiffened as the baby began moving around again. She took one of Adama's hands and placed it so that he could feel the movement too. "I think she agrees with you."

"Most people do. You're the one who likes to disagree with me," he teased her.

"That's because it's so much fun to watch," she joked and they both laughed. Adama took a moment to wonder what his other friends were up to as he decided that it was time to make dinner.

Later Tigh and Diana managed to find time to examine the recording device back in her office. Knowing something about electronics, Tigh disassembled the device after they discovered that just having a tape in it was not the answer. What they found was a switch on the back that changed the frequency of what was played, but a panel had been covering the switch.

"Looks like this might be it here," Diana commented.

They put the tape she had tested it with back in and hit the switch. She heard nothing while Tigh heard it clearly. "This means that Lampkin could be a Cylon. How do we prove it though?" Tigh pointed out.

"I heard from Bill that they're makin' a new Cylon detector. Means we just have to wait until it's finished," she mentioned.

Roslin watched as Margaret and Baltar worked on the Cylon detector. He had been kind to her ever since she returned from her concussion. The president marveled at the odd amiability between the two. Baltar handed Margaret a few things that were too small to see from Roslin's vantage point.

"Thank you," Margaret stated.

"You're welcome," Baltar replied, not facing her.

She glanced over at him. "Something wrong?"

He studied something through a microscope. "I cannot understand why you would work with me. I know you mentioned the Cylon detector, but you don't have to be nice to me."

Pausing in what she was doing as she sat on the stool, she folded her hands in her lap. "What would be the point of working with someone whom I was angry with? If people are polite, then tasks can be accomplished. People who only think of themselves instead of benefiting others indulge in holding grudges and being angry," she told him rationally.

"You never did answer my question of where you stood on the verdict," he reminded. "I need to know because I need to see if it's true that everyone on this whole ship hates me," he relayed.

She noticed the pain in his eyes and gave him a half-smile. "I don't agree with decisions you've made, your allegiances, or how you've conducted yourself from time to time. However, I don't hate you. I feel that you can be reformed. Why is what I think so important to you?" she probed.

"Because you seem like a nice person who doesn't like to hurt other people. And if you don't hate me, then perhaps I've got a reason to stop hating myself. I'm going to tell you something that not many people know. I wanted to die for what happened on New Caprica. I don't know if you can believe that, but I really did. A man I trusted pulled a gun to my head and I asked him to end it. Somehow people have changed their minds and every time that I think things will end, I'm still here," he admitted.

Margaret took a deep breath and touched his shoulder sympathetically. "Which means that you ought to do good with the extra time you've been given. And that means you ought to stop using women."

"I don't use women. They find me!" he protested indignantly.

"That's not entirely true and you know it. I am here to make sure that you don't have problems like that," she explained.

His inner Six spoke to him. "_Well Gaius, it looks like you'll have two consciences now. And I think she's serious_."

"Am I to believe that you intend to be my conscience?" Baltar probed.

"If necessary," Margaret replied.

He sighed and glanced back at the microscope. "It figures that the only person on this ship whom I want to be friends with only wants to baby-sit me. I need one person, just one person to trust me. Why is that so difficult?"

"Trust is earned. I'll be your friend if you like, but trust has to be earned," she affirmed.

Nodding, he turned back to her and in that moment he saw something. To her surprise he removed her glasses. As she blinked at him, he saw it. "I know you, in more ways than one, actually. We met at a convention on Caprica, didn't we?"

She decided that she could now be more honest with him. "Yes. You and I were more interested in conversation than the lectures because the subject matter was making us bored. Then we went to a bar and had a few drinks."

Comprehension washed over his face and he nodded again. "It was more than a few and we woke up together. I'm sorry, I truly am for that lapse in conduct. I…," he trailed off and she knew that a few other truths had begun to sink in. "Your son, dear god the picture… I didn't see the resemblance until now. Oh god, I'm sorry."

Margaret put her hand up. "You were not the only one at fault, but I accept your apology," she remarked. "Tell me though, was there ever anyone whom you truly loved?"

She had been honest with him, so he decided to be honest with her. "I love the Six in the brig, very much."

"Then ask the admiral to marry the two of you. The Cylon pilot is married," Margaret advised.

Baltar shook his head. "But no one trusts Six. They'll never let her out of the brig," he complained.

"Give things time. They might if she manages to convince the others that she is no longer loyal to the Cylons," Margaret suggested hopefully.

He smiled at her. "So you've gone from parole officer to conscience and then to marriage counselor?" he teased.

She smiled back. "Whatever the need requires."

(My thanks to carolann, Mariel3, Izabella Black, and Kiyani for reviewing :D)


	13. Little things

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel. Margaret Vestry and Commander Diana 'Artemis' Genoa are mine.

Chapter 13: Little things

The Cylon detector was finished two months later. They tested it on the Six in the cell, as well as Roslin, Adama, Margaret, Diana, and Baltar. Only Six was confirmed to be a Cylon. Tigh, Anders, Tory, and Tyrol were to be tested no one else was around in order to keep the secrecy. "I said you weren't a Cylon," Diana told Tigh smugly as they left the lab.

"Means that we need to test that attorney next. Good thing the detector is portable. It looks like one of those antique scanning devices they used to use at cash registers," he commented.

Diana rubbed her chin. "We need somebody willin' to watch him, see where he goes."

"Gotta find him first. Right now we've got other problems. The 'Old Man' is thinking of letting that blonde Cylon go if she can prove herself," Tigh mentioned.

Adama stood in front of the cell and asked the marines to open the door. He walked in and the blonde Cylon quickly stood from where she had been lying on the bed. She eyed him suspiciously. "What do you want to know?" she inquired.

He folded his hands and watched her through his stony reserve, showing nothing. "We're considering letting you go if you can answer a few more questions. It would be a limited freedom, and you would be watched, but you'd be out of the cell," he offered.

"I'll answer what I can. Is Gaius alright?" she asked hesitantly.

The admiral nodded, seeing her interest. "Would you really be willing to serve with humans instead of Cylons?" he probed.

She nodded. "I came here because what my people did was despicable and wrong. I'd rather be on your side, if you'll let me."

He continued. "Do you know of any Cylon spies?"

"There are five models that we haven't even seen. One of these is a spy who will awaken the others to what they are. That's all I know about it," she answered, staring at her hands.

"One more question," he paused so that he was looking directly into her eyes, "I know the answer to this one, so let's see if you do. Why did the Cylons want the president?"

The Cylon's eyes widened, as if surprised that he knew. "We found the lost prophesies, the ones that said she would be healed and that her union with a wizened warrior would produce a child who would show them the way to Earth. You can't let the Cylons find Earth, or they'll destroy it. I want to help you," she conveyed.

He watched her for a long minute and then took a deep breath. She bit her lip pensively and sat back down. That look in his eyes was enough to tell her that he did not trust her. Adama and Roslin had discussed the situation that morning, deciding that the blonde Cylon should be watched extensively. "Six, you're free to go," the admiral finally said.

She smiled slightly and stood. He exited the cell and she followed him slowly. The guards removed the shackles and she faced him again. "Thank you. There's one more thing," she waited and he gave her a nod to proceed. "I don't want to be called 'Six' or 'Caprica' anymore. I want my name to be 'Angela.'"

Adama took her to the lab where Margaret and Baltar were working on a few theories for vitamin supplements. "Dr. Baltar, you have a guest," the admiral announced.

Baltar's head shot up from the microscope and an expression between wanting to laugh and wanting to cry crossed his face. He left the stool he had been sitting on and dashed over to Angela. As if doubting her presence, he hesitantly put a hand out and lightly touched her face. Realizing that she was real, he pulled her into a secure embrace. The blonde Cylon began to tear up.

"I thought I'd never see you again," she whispered into the shoulder of his lab coat.

"I was beginning to wonder the same thing," he admitted. Adama and Margaret started to leave, but Baltar called them back. "Wait. Margaret, I want you to meet Caprica Six-"

"Angela," she interjected. "I'd like to be called 'Angela.'"

He grinned at her and nodded. "'Angela' it is then. Margaret and I have been working together," he explained.

"I'm his parole officer," Margaret added.

"Admiral," Baltar paused, trying to look into the face of the older man without seeming to be nervous. "I want to marry her, if you'll let us."

Margaret had mentioned it to Roslin, who had told Adama about the matter loosely. He looked from Baltar to Angela. "What do you say?"

"Yes. I want to marry Gaius," she replied. The admiral grudgingly married Angela to Baltar four days later and she agreed to help him in the lab with Margaret supervising.

Later that day, Adama had Margaret meet him at his office. "You understand that the president and I don't trust Baltar or Six- I mean Angela. I saying this because I don't think that you should either. I'm just warning you because he's good at manipulating people."

Margaret nodded. "Thank you for your concern, Admiral. I don't trust either one of them. However, I do feel that they can both be useful to the fleet. I intend to keep a very close eye on them," she relayed.

Adama took a deep breath. "You're getting too close to him."

"Sir, he trusts me, and I can keep a better eye on things," she added.

He thought over his words for a moment, still trying to assess the woman who stood before him. "Are you trying to reform them?"

She shifted from one foot to the other. "Yes."

After she had left, Adama sighed heavily and stared down at the files from the lab. He was still milling over the situation when Roslin came home. "Bill, you've got that look again. Do you want to tell me what's wrong?" she probed, walking toward him.

He took her hand and squeezed it. "I think we've got a problem with your friend, the woman watching Baltar," he began.

Roslin faced him with concern. "What's going on?"

"As you know, I let the blonde Cylon go back to Baltar," he paused as she nodded. "I've given the two of them enough rope to see if they hang themselves, and I've got a few of my officers watching them when we're not. But I think your friend is being naïve."

"Why?" Roslin inquired.

Adama folded his hands and sat back in his desk chair. "She honestly thinks that she can reform them. I've seen the tapes and I've read the lab reports from her. Baltar has two modes. He's either the arrogant victor, or the needy victim. He's tricked her into feel sorry for him and I think he's just using her."

Sifting through the reports herself, Roslin nodded. "You're probably right. She has a very forgiving, inclusive nature."

"Since the Cylon detector is finished, should we get her out of the lab and put someone else in there?" Adama suggested.

Roslin shook her head. "I think that, given her increased proximity to them, she could still spy on them. It seems that Baltar has forgotten about the video camera from the conversations he's had with the Cylon and Margaret lately. We'll just have to keep a closer eye on them."

As Margaret walked to the meeting for the education committee, she looked over her shoulder, having the distinct feeling that she was being followed. She shook her head as if to remove the discomfort, but the hair on her skin continued to stand on end, as if someone was watching her. The feeling carried over to the following day when she walked to the lab.

When she entered the lab, Angela was bent over a microscope and Baltar was madly scribbling down equations. "What are the two of you up to?" Margaret asked casually.

Angela glanced up from the microscope. "I'm helping with the vitamin project that you and Gaius started," she replied.

Margaret leaned over Baltar's paper. "What's all that?" she probed.

When he faced her, a hint of nervousness sat in his eyes. "It's just a puzzle. I'm just a little stuck on it," he replied.

She stared at the paper and picked up a pencil, realizing that she was looking at a series of chemical equations. "May I?" she requested. He nodded and she jotted down a few notes, adding to the equations. "Is that the solutions you were looking for?"

He scrutinized the paper and then turned back to her. "That's brilliant. How did you fix the problem?"

"A few of the properties were unbalanced," she answered plainly.

"I knew that. I was just testing you," he stated.

She smirked. "If you say so. I'll finish with the vitamins."

Later in the day, Margaret overheard Baltar muttering to himself while Angela worked on the other side of the lab. "But I need an actual sample."

"A sample of what?" Margaret questioned.

He looked over at her and sputtered a bit before answering. "It was nothing. I… was… just milling over a hypothetical problem," he covered. She raised an eyebrow and shook her head. Though she did smile at him, her expression let him know that she was watching him.

With the false sense of security that comes from not having to fight the Cylons for a while, people had begun to take notice of Baltar again. Unlike Angela, who had a marine watching her if she went anywhere other than the lab, Baltar had been left to his own devices. He was mugged over the next week and anyone he passed by glared at him mercilessly. With the stress he had been under, he headed to the hanger for a drink. He had to talk the bar tender out of spitting in his drink first. Angela found him hours later, passed out on the couch. What she learned from him when he woke was enough to worry her.

Margaret came into the lab the next day to see only Angela. "Where is Dr. Baltar?" she inquired.

The taller woman bit her lip pensively for a moment. "He drank too much yesterday and he's getting over it now."

"He should know better," Margaret mentioned.

Angela nodded in agreement and then looked down at the floor. "There's something you need to know."

"Which is?" Margaret prompted.

The other woman sighed heavily, still unable to face Margaret. "Apparently when he was drunk, he let it slip that he had a son. I don't think that he divulged a name, but the two of you may be in danger. If you want to know how I figured it out, I've seen your son and I know who he looks like."

Margaret sank into the stool and ran a hand through her hair. "I should never have confirmed it when he asked me. I don't know what I would do if anything ever happened to my son."

Just then Baltar stumbled into the lab, blinking at the bright lights. "I apologize for being late. I was delayed for health reasons," he managed, attempting to sound professional to mask the indignity of having a hangover.

As Margaret glared at him, all the color drained from his face and he swallowed hard. "You were drunk and you told who knows how many people that you have a son," she began quietly.

"Oh god, I never meant to. Damned moonshine, stronger than what I can usually get my hands on. I'm so sorry. I know, I'm always apologizing to you but-"

"As difficult as it is at this moment, I'm sticking to my policy of leaving the less productive opinions at the door. Just know that if anything happens to my son, it will be your fault," she paused and watched her quiet words take affect.

The three worked silently in the lab and were all mortified when a balding man in his fifties came barging through the door with a loud clamor in the afternoon. Baltar pushed Angela out of sight. Margaret jumped off the stool and eyed the man with scrutiny. "Excuse me, but what's the meaning of this?"

Unfortunately the marine watching the screen from the other room had stepped out for a while, becoming board from watching them work in silence for most of the day. The man that burst in through the door held a handgun. "Lady, this is between him and me. Finally tracked you down, Baltar. I don't care what the verdict was. You're gonna pay for New Caprica."

Margaret looked around frantically for the phone. Upon seeing it, she dashed over to it and tried to call security. She managed to reach them when the man aimed his handgun at her and fired a single shot. The bullet hit her shoulder and passed straight through. The pain that vibrated through her body caused her to drop to her knees. Baltar rushed over to her and tried to hold a handful of gauze to her shoulder.

The man had to reload before he could fire again. Baltar turned his head from Margaret to the other man. "You bloody moron! She was innocent! Your problem is with me, not her."

While the man's attention had been diverted, it gave Angela the opportunity to sneak up behind him and push him to the ground. The marines appeared in the doorway of the lab a moment later, having overheard parts of what had transpired because Margaret had not hung up the phone.

"He came to attack me and shot her. She needs to get to Life Station immediately," he stated.

Though the marines wondered who attacked whom, the first priority was to take Margaret to Life Station. The admiral was alerted and to sort out the entire mess, everyone convened in Life Station. Adama looked directly at Baltar in a reserved, but irritated stare. "I want to know what the hell happened."

"Admiral Adama, that man," Baltar paused and pointed to the man who fired the shot, "burst into the lab to take revenge on me. Dr. Vestry was calling for the marines, but he shot her in the shoulder."

After confirmation from Angela, as well as a marine who had gone back to look at the security tape, Adama had the marines take the man with the handgun to the brig. Roslin arrived later to speak to Cottle about Margaret's condition. "She'll live, and she'll be sore for a while, but she'll heal. Bullet went clean through so it could've been a lot worse."

"Thank you," Roslin told him before facing Adama. "It looks like we'll be looking after her son again for a while, if that's alright with you."

"Of course," he stated.

"As for her work in the lab, I was wrong. I thought her proximity would be an asset. It seems that it's done nothing aside from causing her trouble," Roslin remarked. Margaret was taken out of the lab as soon as she could exit Life Station, and returned to her duties with the Picon delegates. A marine was in charge of watching Baltar and Angela in the lab.

Almost a month had passed since the blonde Cylon had left the cell and the fleet had finally reached the nebula in which they were to find the next clue. "I don't see anything out there," Tigh told Roslin and Adama as they stared into the orange cloud.

The admiral sighed and checked the console. "He's got a point. There isn't even a planet out there this time."

Roslin drummed her fingers on the table. "There's got to be something here." Watching the viewscreen for a while, her eyes widened and she pointed. "It's right there! Don't you see it? It looks like a small blinking red light."

Adama starred at the screen and then saw it too. He zeroed the viewscreen on it and they saw an old probe with a blinking red light. Having decided to bring it onboard, they decided to inspect it in a cargo bay, keeping anyone they suspected of being Cylons away from it. Baltar inspected it with Adama and Roslin watching. They determined that the light began blinking when the fleet passed within a certain proximity to it.

The probe held a single scroll preserved in a small capsule inside it. When it was unrolled, the scroll had writing and a picture of a spiral, along with more constellations. The president took the paper to study it before she and the admiral would meet with the Quorum to tell them about the probe.

Adama returned from CIC to find her analyzing the text on the scroll. "Find anything interesting?"

She glanced up at him before turning back to the scroll. "You need to hear this: 'They shall reach the loss tribe, but the demons will follow. One demon will be the sacrifice to free them, and that demon will destroy only the unworthy. She will take upon herself a wasting disease and spread it. Few demons will remain, but those left have been deemed worthy and will not fall ill.' I think this means that the Cylons are still following us."

He rubbed his chin with his index finger. "We've been unusually lucky lately. You could be right. Why can't things ever be simple?"

Standing, she walked over to him and smiled before kissing him warmly. "Because life isn't simple," she responded.

After the meeting with the Quorum, she eased herself onto the couch. "I think they're making meetings longer just to see how long I can actually stand," she remarked, slipping her feet from her flats.

Adama sat down next to her and yawned. "I don't think it's you they're trying to test. I really could've used a cup of coffee. The 'no food or drinks' policy they have can take a trip out an airlock. Someone's trying to see how much it'll take before the admiral dozes off," he commented with a chuckle.

Giggling, she shook her head. "At least you don't look like a beached whale."

Rubbing his chin with his index finger, he studied her and then shook his head. "You waddle like a duck, but you don't look like a beached whale."

"I feel much better now," she added sarcastically as she began to squirm out of her jacket.

He reached back by the collar and slowly slid it past her arms, setting it on the other side of the couch. Then he looked back at her and smiled warmly. "You want to know what I think?" he paused and cupped her cheek with his right hand. "I think you're beautiful."

Her breath caught in her throat and her eyes began to tear up. _I am not getting emotional. I cannot believe these hormones. Oh who am I kidding? It's probably not the hormones,_ she thought to herself. "Bill, I can barely fit through the door."

"So?" he responded, tracing small circles in her cheek with his thumb. The contact began having an affect on her. Everything felt warmer and she wanted nothing more than to be closer to him. His left hand drifted to her abdomen and rested on top. She took his hand and moved it so that he could feel the baby kick.

Sliding his left hand along her waist to her back, he leaned toward her and kissed her gently. He had only intended to help her feel better, but desires that both had tried to ignore surfaced. They pulled back enough to lock gazes, each realizing the other's longing for something more. Then they kissed passionately. He pulled her as close as he could and deepened the kiss. She moaned and grabbed onto his uniform as she responded.

Then regretfully she pulled back. "We can't do this, not yet," she whispered, resting her forehead against his. "I'm eight months pregnant and this isn't a good idea."

He lightly brushed her lips with his, still holding her closely. "In that case, we'll just have to be patient."

Since the cot was the same height as the bed, they had decided to line up the two so that it became a makeshift double bed. Roslin had another dream and sat up in the middle of the night, looking for the light switch. She flicked it on and Adama groaned at the brightness. "What's wrong?"

She did not answer until he was also sitting up, noticing how alert she was. "I know where Earth is."

(A/N: I know this chapter had a great deal of Baltar stuff in it, but parts will be important later)

(My thanks to carolann and Kiyani for reviewing :D)


	14. Troubled waters

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel. Margaret Vestry and Commander Diana 'Artemis' Genoa are mine.

Chapter 14: Troubled waters

"Another dream?" Adama inquired. Roslin nodded and left the bed to find the piece of paper from the probe on the desk.

She began writing down the information from her dream on a separate sheet of paper. "Everything makes sense now. I saw it, the spiral galaxy. That's where Earth is, and these constellations can guide us there."

Once she had written what she needed to, they returned to bed until his alarm went off. Later both stood in CIC, setting up the new coordinates. They would be able to reach Earth in weeks as myth slowly unfolded into reality. Adama also relayed the coordinates to the other ships, hearing whoops of joy from their captains. It was decided that a celebration would be held in the rec center on the hanger.

Roslin and Adama held a press conference before the celebration to tell the fleet about their new destination. "Madame President, Admiral, how did you learn the location of Earth?" one reporter asked.

"From the probe left behind," Roslin answered.

Another reporter piped up from somewhere in the back. "Are we able to make contact with Earth?"

His question started a furry of other Earth-to-Colonial relations questions. "We don't know anything about Earth itself yet, so hold those questions for when we get there," Adama said over the crowd.

The two walked toward the hanger deck as the press conference ended. "Well you've kept your promise," Roslin said to him as she took his arm.

"I always keep my promises," he mentioned, kissing her on the cheek.

All eyes drifted toward them as they entered the celebration. "Are we having a bad hair day?" Roslin whispered jokingly.

Lee sauntered over to them. "Nothing's wrong. We want to give you a toast," he paused as everyone raised glasses. "To the leaders of this rag-tag mess we call humanity, may they continue to guide us well, and may the gods look after them."

"So say we all," Adama added.

As the others returned to their previous activities, Margaret walked over to Roslin. "I haven't seen you in a while. How are you?" she asked.

The president smiled warmly. "I'm fine, thank you. Things have been so busy lately. How is your shoulder? How is Tony?"

"It's healing nicely. Tony's doing quite well. Commander Adama's wife is watching Tony over there," Margaret pointed to where Dee stood, talking to the boy. "Children seem to like her. I met her when she started volunteering at the day-care."

While Margaret and Roslin talked, Adama enjoyed his drink, content to watch everyone. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Diana and Tigh talking. The XO had something from the bar while Diana had a glass of water. "Sure you don't want any of this?" Tigh offered.

Diana adamantly shook her head. "Nope, you can keep your moonshine. Water's fine with me. You people sure know how to throw a shindig. I haven't seen a party this big since my graduatin' flying class," she observed.

Tigh chuckled at the memory. "It amazes me how much new pilots seem to wanna get smashed. If I remember correctly, you had a few drinks too."

She blushed and looked away for a moment. "So? At least it was stuff I could swallow. Gave me one doozy of a headache though," she took a drink of water as music began to play. "Tried to get you to dance with me, but you just sat and watched everybody."

He took a gulp of his drink. "Maybe I would've if I knew how drastically things were going to change some years down the line."

Setting her glass down on the table, she turned to him with a mischievous grin. "What about now? I know that song they're playin'. How about not bein' a stick-in-the-mud this time and dancin' with me?"

Eyeing her incredulously, he stood. "You're plum crazy and I'd- dangit, now I'm picking up your expressions," he glared at her as she chuckled. "Fine, let's show these nuggets how it's done."

Diana and Tigh began a lively, traditional colonial dance. Soon everyone followed suit and partners changed as people spun each other. When Tigh caught up to Diana again, both were laughing and enjoying themselves. The dance ended and they slowly backed away from each other.

"Thank you, that was fun," Diana related.

He grinned. "You're welcome."

Abruptly they noticed Lampkin at the bar. "I wish we could catch that son-of-a-gun. I don't trust him," Diana whispered.

Tigh thought for a moment. "Maybe we can. I know where the Cylon detector is," he informed her.

She kept an eye on the attorney while Tigh headed over to the lab. When he returned, Diana took the device and headed over to the bar to ask for a refill of water. As she waited for it, she kept one hand out of sight and subtly scanned Lampkin when he was talking to the bar tender. Once she had the water, she found Tigh again.

"He's a Cylon alright," she pointed out, showing him the detector.

They decided to tell the admiral and the president immediately. The two were sitting at a table off by themselves. "What's up, Saul?" Adama asked as his XO approached him.

"Lampkin's a Cylon," he whispered, showing Adama the detector.

The admiral faced Roslin, Tigh and Diana having already informed them of the recording device that Lampkin had been using. "We need to get that attorney out of here quietly. I'll ask a few marines."

She nodded and had one more thing to mention before he left. "Go ahead and airlock him if it seems necessary."

Adama approached Lampkin at the bar and struck up a conversation with him about Joseph Adama, leading the attorney to the door. There the marines quietly arrested him and he was taken to a cell. Once he stood behind the bars, Adama dismissed the marines and the two men faced each other.

"Is this some twisted sort of payback for the trial?" Lampkin probed.

The admiral watched as Lampkin removed his sunglasses before he decided to answer. "Mr. Lampkin, this has little bearing on the trial, and everything to do with two other elements. First, your recording device has a modification to play things on frequencies that would be out of normal hearing ranges."

"What do you intend to do with that bit of information? It proves nothing," Lampkin countered.

"You're right. It proves nothing, by itself," Adama added. "You see, we have proof that you, Mr. Lampkin, are a Cylon. What do you say to that?"

"I say your son has a much better grasp of a functional argument than you do," the attorney tossed back.

Adama folded his hands in front of him, his stony reserve well in place. "That may be true, but right now I'm the one you're dealing with. I want to know why you're here and how much you know."

"What makes you think that I plan on telling you the truth? It won't buy me good behavior. That much I realize. You've already made up your mind about me, just like you did with Baltar. The question isn't for me: it's for you. Do you act on said biases, or do you actually plan to listen to me? What's in it for me if I tell you what you want to hear?" Lampkin asked.

"I've been given full authority to airlock you. Tell me why I shouldn't," Adama set up his bargain.

"For the same reason you couldn't bring yourself to airlock Baltar," Lampkin pursued.

Adama slowly walked from one end of the room to the other and back to the attorney. "The difference this time is a little matter called public safety. The way I see it, you can do a lot of damage with what you know by turning us against each other."

"You have the most to hide, don't you, Admiral. After all, I'm not the one who knocked up the president and wants to blame it on the Cylons," Lampkin drawled.

He did not anticipate the speed at which Adama reached through the bars and grabbed his neck. "I'm going to make one thing clear: you leave her out of this," Adama growled.

"Then why don't you just get the inevitable over with? Throw the man out of the airlock because you're afraid. Someone's got to be punished, and look who it is today! Who will it be tomorrow? Your own XO? The president's aide?" he tried to provoke the admiral.

"Take him to the nearest airlock," Adama told the marines. They walked Lampkin out of his cell and walked him in front of them at gunpoint.

"You're too late. They're coming for you, and they know where you're going," Lampkin called back before being flushed out of the airlock.

When Adama returned to the celebration, he and Roslin left for their quarters. "How did it go?" she inquired.

He sighed heavily. "I think we'll need to keep a sharp eye out for the Cylons."

She rested a hand on his shoulder. "You want to tell me what happened?"

Squeezing her hand, he spoke. "Lampkin was doing what the Cylons usually do, mixing truths with lies. He accused me of being too judgmental in whom I throw out of the airlock, bringing up Saul and your aide."

"It's too bad that Tory, Anders, and Chief Tyrol are actually Cylons. Was there anything else?" Roslin probed.

Adama stood and faced her, taking her hands in both of his. She watched him pensively, not used to the worry she had seen in his eyes. She slipped her right hand out of his left and placed it on his chest. "What did he say, Bill?" she asked quietly.

Drawing her into a hug, he brought her over to the couch and they sat down. "Before I airlocked him, Lampkin said that we were too late, that they know where we're going," he finally answered.

She reached out and touched his face. "We will fight, and we will win, because losing isn't an option."

As they stood in CIC watching the viewscreen, Roslin sighed heavily. Her back had been bothering her all morning. It had been a couple of weeks since the party and finally the fleet was only a few jumps away from Earth. Adama glanced over at her with a concerned eyebrow, but then the DRADIS showed motion. "Sir, it's the Cylons! I'm detecting at least fifty smaller ships and four base stars," Dee announced.

"Dammit, how did they find us again?" Adama seethed.

From where she was standing, Roslin's hand brushed against something just under the table. She felt around and pulled off something that had been taped to it. "Bill, you'd better take a look at this," she said as she handed him a small black box.

After sending out the order for the pilots to fight, Adama and Tigh examined the object. "Somethin' tells me that it's some sort of signal device," the colonel suggested.

"How did it get here though?" Adama inquired.

"Do you have any new maintenance people? Maybe someone was bribed," Roslin suggested.

"No matter what this is, or who put it here, they've found us and the only thing we can do is fight back," the admiral expressed.

Tigh held the device again and found the battery slot. He removed the batteries and then glanced back up at the battle forming on the viewscreen. Roslin rested a hand on the table again, taking quick, silent breaths. The pain was affecting more than her back now. She was determined not to bother Adama with what she knew would be hours of waiting anyway, not when the Cylons were in pursuit of them again. Fortunately she spotted a chair and pulled it close to sit on.

Though the fleet was doing well, the battle dragged on. Roslin was using a few blinking red lights to time contractions, still remaining silent so as not to be in anyone's way. Adama glanced back at her and noticed her white-knuckled grip on the table. "Laura, are you alright?" he asked with concern.

She nodded, not facing him. "I'll be fine. I just- ahh," a sharp pain interrupted any way she could think of to hide it.

Adama ran a hand through his hair. "Why didn't you say something sooner?"

"We're in the middle of a battle," she replied steadily.

"We need to get you to Life Station, battle or not," he informed her.

Just then, _Galactica_ tilted to one side, being hit by Cylon fire. Taking one of Roslin's hands in his, he turned back to Tigh. "Saul, get me the _Cassiopeia_. I need to know what Commander Artemis is doing with her pilots," he ordered.

The colonel did not need to be told twice. While Tigh dialed the phone, Adama turned back to Roslin. "I'm getting you to Life Station."

"You're needed here. Bill, I'll get there myself," Roslin tried to insist.

"I'm coming with you," he stated firmly.

Soon Tigh handed Adama the phone and the admiral was speaking with Diana. "We need to know what's going on over there," he requested.

"I don't know if it'll work, but I'm gonna try to get the shield up. I'll call over there and tell them how to do it. Should be able to modify it and keep it going for a little while," Diana relayed.

"Go ahead. If it works, it could be our ticket out of this mess," Adama told her. Then he realized something. "Why would you need to call over there?"

She pulled the throttle back in the viper she sat in, nearing the Cylons. "Because someone had to lead the pilots into this. We've got too many rookies. One more thing. Saul, it looks like we're gonna get to do some metallic ass-kicking."

(My thanks to carolann, Mariel3, Kiyani, Izabella Black, and OldFashionedGrl for reviewing :D)

(A/N: If those of you that have been reviewing me have not seen a reply, it wasn't for lack of trying. Due to technical difficulties, I don't think my replies are being sent, so I just wanted to say that reviews are very much liked, read, and appreciated).


	15. A life worth living

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel. Margaret Vestry and Commander Diana 'Artemis' Genoa are mine.

Chapter 15: A life worth living

"She's out of her mind," Tigh insisted, watching the vipers head out, silently wondering which one Diana flew.

The glow of the fire exchanges danced across the viewscreen. The vipers managed to hold off the smaller Cylon vessels, but the base ships were looming dangerously closer. Adama squeezed Roslin's hand, turning to face her. "I love you," he whispered.

At that moment she knew how worried he truly was. Bill Adama was a man who showed that he loved her, but rarely felt the need to say it. "I love you too," she whispered back. She squeezed his hand to reassure him of her presence, but accidentally ended up using an iron grip as another contraction hit. "Sorry," she added.

"It's alright," he said quietly.

As the base ships neared the fleet, the vipers then did something Adama considered odd: they kept firing, but the ships were in reverse. What was even more perplexing was that they were led in the verse by one viper. Over the system, they had all heard the order to reverse. "Cassiopeia Actual, what in Kobol's name are you doing?"

"Artemis here. They're about to activate the shield and if it works, we don't need the vipers' controls wiped out," Diana explained.

"She's gonna get herself killed," Tigh grumbled.

The admiral took a deep breath. Not being a religious man, he said a silent prayer anyway that his old friend's questionable plan would actually work. "We've got to hope that she knows what she's doing."

A beam originated from the _Cassiopeia_ and they watched from CIC as the base ships as well as the smaller Cylon vessels suddenly stopped. "Artemis to Galactica Actual," the welcome transmission began. "Looks like the shield worked. We're gonna attack while they're tryin' to figure out what hit 'em."

Adama removed his glasses with his free hand and sighed with relief. Roslin ran her thumb over his hand, smiling. Then he put his glasses back on and responded. "Artemis, next time check with me before you use new viper strategies, considering you aren't supposed to be flying anyway. Good hunting."

"Yes sir," she replied.

Finally able to unglue his eyes from the viewscreen, he turned back to Roslin as she nearly crushed his hand again. "Saul, I've got a family matter to take care of. Can you handle it up here?"

The other man nodded with a smile. "You two go on. I'll be fine."

Supported by Adama who held her up by the waist as one of her arms draped over his neck, Roslin reached Life Station. Cottle eyed the two suspiciously as they passed through the door. "You've gotta be kidding me. From what I've heard we've got a battle and now you're gonna tell me that the baby won't wait 'til later."

"That's pretty much it," Roslin relayed.

Cottle set her up with a dressing gown and a bed while examining her quickly. Realizing that she would still have a few hours, the old doctor sent the admiral back to CIC so that he would not worry himself to death. When Adama returned to CIC, he learned that Diana wanted to dock on _Galactica_ first before returning to her ship. The admiral allowed her and soon she walked onto CIC.

"I don't know how much longer we can keep the shield up, be we've almost finished off this bunch," she commented, referring to the Cylons.

"How's the knee?" Adama probed.

She sighed and leaned on the table. "It could've been better. I don't plan to be flyin' any time soon, and I'm real sorry about not tellin' you about the reverse."

"It worked out for the better. Just don't make decisions like that on your own. I'm the admiral," he reminded. At first she wondered if he was upset with her, but when he smiled, she merely nodded.

On the other hand, the colonel was livid. "Don't you ever pull a crazy stunt like that again!" Tigh scolded Diana as she walked onto CIC.

"I used to be a pilot, and I was ready in case the shield didn't work!" she protested.

He glared at her, stepping closer. "But you could've died! What was I gonna do if you died? Of all the-"

"Aw, hang it, Saul." Diana grabbed Tigh by his uniform, pulled him down to her level, and kissed him soundly. "You don't know how long I've been waitin' to do that," she remarked as she pulled back. All of the officers in CIC watched with mortified shock.

She had expected him to storm off. Instead he placed a hand on the back of her neck and returned the kiss passionately. Adama sighed and cleared his throat. "Much as I don't want to interrupt, we have work to do and the two of you are blocking the viewscreen."

Tigh and Diana immediately separated, blushing in embarrassment. According to the viewscreen and the DRADIS, the vipers disabled and destroyed the Cylons before the enemy could regroup. Diana left shortly for the _Cassiopeia_ and after seeing that everything was in order and remaining in CIC to execute the next jump, Adama returned to Life Station.

Roslin was propped up with a few pillows, both hands having a white-knuckled grip on the bed. Adama pulled up a chair next to her as Cottle came over. "Good thing you came back. Now I won't have to listen to her complain."

"Switch places with me and we'll see who's complaining," she retorted before gritting her teeth through another contraction. "Oh gods, this hurts! How much longer?"

Cottle sighed heavily. "Young lady, these things take time, especially with the first one. You're probably going to be here another five hours, at least."

"This is such a waste of time! I could be reading through reports right now," she vexed.

Adama had taken hold of one of her hands so that she could grip his hand for support. He snorted at her comment and tried to hide a smirk. "It's not funny!" she growled.

He eyed her sympathetically. "I'm sorry. You're cute when you're impatient," he said smoothly.

For that he received an eye-roll. "Do you think I'm letting you off the hook this easily? It's bad enough that, unlike most pregnant women, I can't blame my husband for this. I suppose I'll just blame the Cylons- oh dammit – frakking sadistic – oh gods!" a contraction interrupted her rant.

Fortunately for everyone, a girl was born three hours later. Adama sat on the bed next to Roslin, holding her close with his arm around her shoulders. He leaned toward her and they kissed soundly. After having made certain that both baby and mother were healthy, Cottle had closed the curtain around the bed, leaving them alone. The small reddish, wrinkly bundle in Roslin's arms made soft cooing sounds.

"She's going to need a name, you know," Roslin reminded.

Adama grinned and touched the baby's bald head. "I didn't particularly like anything we suggested."

Roslin sighed. "Neither did I. She needs something that she can live with, but something of interest too. Since she's helped in directing us on our course, perhaps we can try some names related to planets or stars."

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I can't really think of much in that area though."

"We've got a universe with its celestial bodies and all of the interesting nebulas out here and nothing comes to mind," she remarked, smiling down at the baby.

At that moment the wheels in Adama's head began to turn. "How about 'Celeste' as a first name?"

Roslin looked back at him and grinned. "I like it. And I think I know what would make a good middle name. Is it alright with you if her middle name was 'Kara'?"

She handed the baby to him and he smiled down at his daughter. "What do you think? Will 'Celeste Kara' do?"

As if in response, the baby cooed. "I think she agrees," Roslin added with a yawn.

Adama let Roslin sleep as he held the baby for a while longer, seeking out Cottle. "Jack," he paused at the doctor's desk. "Why did you tell her it'd be five more hours?"

"I thought it wouldn't be quite that long, but I didn't want to get her hopes up if I was wrong," Cottle replied.

Two days later Cottle released Roslin and the baby from Life Station and Adama walked them to their quarters, receiving grins and 'aw's as they passed through the corridors. When they entered, Roslin glanced around the room. Adama raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

She glanced down at little Celeste and then back at him pensively. "Where are we going to put her?"

He rubbed his chin and paced the room a few times as she sat on the couch, still holding the baby. Then he headed into their room to see if anything would make a decent bed. He emerged a few minutes later holding a laundry basket with blankets tucked in it. "I know it's nothing close to a crib…," he trailed off, not meeting her eyes.

"But we'll have to improvise," she added as she stood and walked over to him. "It'll have to do for now and eventually she can sleep on the cot."

"Which means we lose the double bed," he mentioned, setting the basket down on his desk. She set Celeste in it and the baby did not seem to mind.

They faced each other and she smiled sympathetically. "It's not so bad, really."

"You mean that?" he asked with a half-smile.

She gently grasped his forearm. "As long as you don't put me on the couch. I love your couch, but to sleep on permanently wouldn't be the best idea."

He wrapped both arms around her waist and drew her to him. Her arms rested on his chest as their foreheads met. "I'd never do that to you. Truth is that you belong with me and the only way you'd be sleeping on the couch would be if I was there with you," he relayed.

Emerald eyes lit up with mirth and she grinned. "I couldn't agree more," she whispered.

Not wanting to hold back any longer, his lips captured hers in a passionate kiss. Her hands slid up his chest and folded behind his neck. She deepened the kiss and they pulled closer to each other. His arms snaked up her back and one hand played with the ends of her hair. Their only interruption was the sudden crying of baby Celeste.

They broke apart for air and Roslin glanced over her shoulder. "I think she's hungry."

Adama nodded with understanding and let her go. After the baby was fed, they decided that the basked would be kept close to their bed for the first week, and then moved behind the sheet-curtain partition. Placing the basket on the couch, Roslin laid Celeste down for a nap. They heard a knock at the door a few hours later.

The admiral opened it to find Lee and Tory. "I came to visit and she followed me," Lee explained.

"Madame President, you need to make a few announcements to the press," Tory reminded.

Roslin glanced over at Adama and sighed. "That's the part I'm not looking forward to particularly."

"Then perhaps we'd better get it over with," Adama remarked, turning from her to Tory. "Would tomorrow work?"

"That would suffice. Madame President, you also have to restructure your usual way of conducting your day," the aide mentioned.

Roslin raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

The baby began to wake up and Roslin walked over to the basket to scoop the infant up into her arms. Tory answered, "You will need time to look after the baby, unless you'd rather hire someone."

Looking up at the younger woman, Roslin smiled warmly. "Thank you, Tory. That's very thoughtful of you. I think scheduled the entire week off to give myself time to recuperate. We can talk about reforming my schedule tomorrow as well." Seeing that the baby was relatively quiet, she stepped closer to Tory. "Her name is 'Celeste Kara.' Why don't you try holding her?"

Tory looked thoroughly uncomfortable as Roslin handed her the infant. Set in Tory's arms, little Celeste's face crinkled up, as if she was about to protest the change of people. Roslin quickly turned the baby slightly so that while Tory was holding her, she could see her mother. Tory stared down at the baby and then back to Roslin with an expression of sheer panic that read 'what am I supposed to do now?' and Roslin took the baby back.

Lee chuckled as Tory left. "Thank the deities that the human population doesn't depend on her having children. She looked like she was about to die on the spot."

Roslin and Adama laughed and nodded as she handed Celeste to Lee. The baby seemed confused, but did not protest. "Seems you're a natural," Adama commented.

Lee grinned wryly. "I think she just likes her own family," he paused and smiled down at Celeste. "I wonder what they'll say when I teach you how to fly a Viper."

"I don't think so," Roslin retorted indignantly.

"I'm afraid you've got a long wait before that's a consideration at all," Adama mentioned. "How's Dee?"

Handing the baby over to his father, Lee smiled again. "She wanted me to tell you guys that she wants to baby-sit. Actually, she wanted me to tell you a few other things too," he began.

Roslin raised an eyebrow. "Where is she, by the way?"

Lee's cheeks colored slightly. "She's actually resting. Doc told her to take a few days off."

"What's up, son?" the admiral probed.

"Dee's pregnant," his son responded simply.

"That's great news! Congratulations," Roslin relayed as she laid the baby in the basket again.

Adama pulled Lee into a hug. "Congratulations, son. Give Dee our regards."

"Thanks Dad, I will," he stated.

Lee left, allowing Adama and Roslin to have lunch and adjust to being home again. Roslin had dozed off on the couch while Adama was holding Celeste. He was looking through his library to see if he had any children's story books when he heard a knock at the door. Roslin stirred and stretched.

"Suddenly people don't want to leave us alone," she mentioned with a yawn.

"I think they don't care about us; they just want to see the baby. I wonder who Cottle let it slip to that we were back here," Adama mused as he opened the hatch.

Tigh and Diana stood outside and he invited them in while Roslin got to her feet. "Gaeta's looking after CIC," Tigh began. "Cottle called up and told me you were here."

Diana stepped forward as Tigh closed the door. "I'm not botherin' with excuses. I came to see the baby," she stated.

Roslin and Adama exchanged smirks. "I told you that she's the only reason we have any visitors lately," he joked.

"I should be askin' how you're doing too, and if you're up to visitors. Seems I've been blunt," Diana remarked to Roslin.

"When aren't you blunt?" Tigh goaded her. She looked back at him and shot him a scolding look.

"You say that like I'm the only one," she added with a half-smile.

With a quick nod of approval from Roslin, Adama let Diana hold the baby. "Her name is 'Celeste Kara,'" he told the guests.

Diana smiled warmly at the baby, who did not seem to mind her. "Oh, aren't you just a pretty little thing? You won't give 'em much trouble, will you? Nah, you're a real good baby, lettin' a total stranger hold you," she told the baby softly. "It's a real good name, Bill, and she's the cutest little thing I've seen in a while."

He and Roslin said a small thank you and Diana handed Roslin the baby. Tigh was able to hold Celeste next, but he seemed uncomfortable and did not know quite what to do. Diana took pity on him. "Saul, you're holdin' her too far away. That's better, but- no like this," she adjusted his arms slightly. "Now relax, she's not gonna complain at you if she's comfortable."

After a while, Celeste began to squirm and fuss, having so many visitors in one day. Diana took her and quieted her a bit before handing her back over to Adama. "She seems to like you," Adama told Diana.

The black-haired woman shrugged. "It's simple thinkin'. I was relaxed, and she's gonna be plum uncomfortable if you hold her and you aren't relaxed."

When his XO and Diana had left, Adama noticed half a mark that Tigh had tried to cover up with his collar. "Did I miss something?" Roslin inquired, noticing Adama's amused expression. He filled her in on what had happened in CIC. "I wonder what he'll do when he figures out that she wants a baby," Roslin pointed out.

Adama glanced at the door for a moment. "I don't think he would deny her much. They might look like they argue, but things go a lot deeper than that." His eyes came back to his wife and they shared warm smiles.

The following day Roslin and Adama met with the press in a board room. She held their daughter closely and spoke to the reporters. "I ask that you restrict the flash photography so as not to hurt the baby's eyes. Her name is 'Celeste Kara,' and we'll be taking questions now."

A tall, lean man in a suit raised his microphone. "Madame President, will you be running again in the upcoming election?"

"Yes, Carl, I will be running again, and there will be a debate as there was before," Roslin replied.

A petite woman in a blue dress was next. "Madame President, how will being a mother affect your abilities to govern the people?"

Roslin knew that the question had been intended to make her nervous, but instead she thought of Margaret for a moment and she had an answer. "Well Tamara, I can now empathize more with the mothers in the fleet, and having a new perspective helps me to make better decisions for this civilization. I will govern to the best of my abilities and help to preserve the survival of this fleet."

A short man in a green shirt called out a question from the back of the room. "Madame President, is it true that we are close to Earth? What will happen when we reach Earth?"

"Greg, I feel that your question is best defaulted to the military," she stated as she turned and smiled at Adama.

"We are close to Earth, but, we do not know what to expect and will proceed with caution," the admiral disclosed.

As they were leaving the press conference, the president and the admiral were greeted by Margaret and Tony. "I was on my way to take Tony to day-care. How are you, Laura?" the blonde woman asked politely.

Adama was holding Celeste and Roslin glanced back at him. "We're fine, thank you. I'd like you to meet the newest addition to the fleet," she paused as her husband handed the baby to her. "This is Celeste Kara."

Margaret smiled warmly. "Oh, she's beautiful. Congratulations."

Adama and Roslin began walking back to their quarters when Cottle intercepted them. "I'm glad I found you three," he paused and Adama knew by his expression that whatever was going on was serious. "Something's come up and I need you to follow me to Life Station."

When they passed through the door, Roslin stepped in front of Cottle. "Jack, the baby's fine, right?"

Noticing the worry in their faces, he spoke quickly. "Yes, sorry if I scared you two. I tested her blood to yours though when she was born," he paused and led them over to his computer. "Both of you have Cylon DNA in your system. For her, it means that she'll probably make it through childhood without getting sick much."

Adama raised an eyebrow. "But isn't that good news? What's going on?"

"Bill, it is good news, but it means that their DNA is a secret that shouldn't get out. There was a small break-in last night. Someone got into Life Station when there was a shift change and stole samples of not only Laura and the baby, but also Athena and Hera," Cottle explained.

The admiral sighed, clenching and unclenching his fists. "Where's Baltar?" he growled quietly.

"Probably in his quarters, I'd imagine. The blonde Cylon's guard told me that she hasn't left his quarters, and if she's still there, then so is he," Cottle rationalized.

Adama faced his wife and daughter. "I know you don't like it when I don't include you, but would you mind sitting this one out? I don't know what I'll find and I'd prefer that you didn't get hurt."

Roslin nodded. "It's fine. I need to put Celeste down for a nap anyway. It wouldn't be wise for either of us to be anywhere near that man's quarters," she agreed with her husband.

After seeing them to his quarters, the admiral headed off to find Baltar, taking a few marines with him. He reached the door and knocked harshly. Baltar slowly opened the door, but only partly as he stood dressed in his laboratory garb. "Admiral, I don't think this is a good time-"

"I think it is. Why did you take DNA samples from Life Station?" Adama questioned.

Baltar swallowed hard, attempting to formulate an answer. Before he could say more, a voice from his quarters croaked, "Gaius, let him in and tell him the truth."

The dark-haired man nodded and took a step back, letting the admiral in. Baltar's quarters were simply and clean, but Angela lay on the sofa, looking pale. "She was trying to save us," Baltar began quietly. "She somehow got into the room with the probe and exposed herself to it, knowing that she would become ill. With the base ships, she was planning on letting them capture her so that she could be taken to the resurrection ship and then she would spread the disease to the Cylon race. I couldn't let her and stopped her from stealing a Viper."

"What about the DNA samples?" Adama demanded.

"Mathematically, I had devised a vaccine for the Cylons so that Angela could join me on Earth. It was based on a theory that the hybridized DNA could produce the correct antibodies. However, I couldn't prove it without actual samples. I wasn't planning on having someone to test it on though," he paused and began to tear up. "This wasn't supposed to happen. I can see what affect the vaccine will have on the virus, but I'm still going to loose her because the vaccine can only prevent the virus, not stop it in its tracks."

Adama paced the room. "I'm confiscating everything. She's going to Life Station and you're going back to the brig," he stated firmly.

"Please, just let me stay with her. She doesn't have long and I…," he trailed off, not knowing how to explain.

"Gaius, he's got a right to be mad," Angela whispered. "Admiral, please just let Gaius stay with me for the time I have left. A guard can watch us, and after I'm gone, you two can sort this out further."

Adama headed back to his quarters and told Roslin what he had discovered. They decided that Baltar would stay in Life Station with Angela while Cottle analyzed his research, having guards watch his guests.

Four days later, Roslin had just finished feeding the baby when the phone rang. "Laura, you might want to see this. Come down to CIC, and you can bring Celeste with you," Adama told her.

"We'll be right there," she stated.

Adama greeted them as they entered CIC. "What's this all about?" she inquired.

He led her down to the lower deck where he usually stood and pointed to the viewscreen. "According to the coordinates we've been using, we should be near Earth soon. I thought you might want to be here for our next jump."

"Definitely," she added, holding the baby closer.

The fleet jumped and a few minutes later, they saw something on the viewscreen that was not a nebula or stars. A blue-green planet with an atmosphere appeared, along with a slight glint of its sun behind it. The baby began to make noises as officers checked the readings.

"Sir, it's a planet with an atmosphere suitable for humans and around seven and a half billion people are down there," Dee mentioned.

Adama and Roslin looked at each other and then out at the viewscreen again. "We've reached Earth," she concluded.

(My thanks to Mariel3, carolann, Kiyani, and OldFashionedGrl for reviewing :D)


	16. Cousins?

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel. Margaret Vestry and Commander Diana 'Artemis' Genoa are mine.

English: _Italics_

Colonial speech: normal text

Chapter 16: Cousins?

Earth, 2050

President Amelia McGeorge tapped her manicured nails on the desk of the Oval Office as she waited for her Secretary of the State and Secretary of Defense to bring her the reports. Absently she tapped the button for the holo-screen television on her desk. Miniature people were seen, out on a hillside somewhere, shovels on the ground, the wind picking up their hats. The sound told her that she was watching the discovery channel and they were in Greece a week ago with a cave that had been discovered.

There was writing on the cave walls as well as drawings and something resembling equations. The holo-screen had become of interest to her instead of simply a distraction. As Amelia leaned forward, the narration talked about the text being in ancient Greek and that what they could translate told them of the arrival of a ship. As she looked up to see her door open, she also heard mention of someplace called 'Kobol' and twelve other tribes before she lowered the volume slightly.

Secretary of the State William Rudyard handed her the reports and sank down into one of the leather chairs in front of the desk. He ran a hand through his graying blonde hair and pushed his glasses back on his nose. She thought that he looked thinner than usual that morning.

He spoke as she thumbed through the report. "_Madame, President, I got as much as I could from NASA this morning. I tried talking to Russia, but they won't deal with us unless you meet with President Kruklov first. China called the office this morning and wants to know as soon as possible how big a threat these visitors are. From what I can tell, whoever's out there talked to us first by sheer chance_."

What she found in the reports surprised her, but she chose to simply look up at him instead of gasping. "_The computer was able to translate their language?"_ she questioned.

Rudyard nodded. "_They speak some sort of ancient Greek. I think it's farther down in the report_."

The message she found was clear and to the point, minus a few words. "We have escaped… destruction of our worlds. Over thirty-thousand of us… we need a new home… searching for the lost tribe. We mean no harm… please respond."

"_William, have you seen what they found in Greece this past week_?" she asked.

At first, the eyed her curiously because he thought that she was changing the subject. "_Ma'am, they found a cave of sorts with ancient Greek writing, but what does that…,"_ he trailed off with an understanding of the connection. "_They could be the ancestors, and if this is all true_-"

"_Get me the United Nations as soon as possible, and then get me NASA. We're going to talk to our guests and then once I hear from them what's going on, I'll meet with the UN council_," she stated.

"Yes, ma'am," he said as he quickly rose and left the office.

Not a minute after Rudyard had gone, the Secretary of Defense arrived. Being in the Marines for so many years had taught him never to underestimate a situation. He found the president looking as prim and pressed as ever, in her slate-blue dress suit, her cocoa-brown hair pulled back in a French role. She stood and smiled warily as he entered, in his uniform as usual. Salt-and-pepper hair with a matching mustache, he smiled back politely, handing her the report, their hands brushing for a second.

"_Madame President, I know I'm late, but it couldn't be helped. Traffic in this city is terrible_," he began.

"_Have a seat, General. I understand, and I've got the Secretary of Transportation looking into it. With people trying to switch from hybrids to electric, you've still got some die-hards that drive with just gasoline clogging up the roads_," she mentioned as she sat back down. Then she folded her hands and sighed. "_Jay, we've got a mess this morning. These interstellar guests have the other countries looking to us for information because they decided to contact us first. I've been up since I was called at five this morning_."

General Jeremiah Freiberg took a deep breath. "_They've got nukes on those ships out there too. Did Rudyard give you the report from NASA yet_?"

"_Yes, and they seem peaceful. I want to negotiate with whoever's in charge of them personally and then meet with the UN when I know what's going on_," she replied, opening his report and scanning it.

"_I would advise against direct confrontation at this point. Have you heard anything from the vice president yet?_" he probed.

Amelia rolled her eyes. "_Louis Jacobs was last seen at a bar, talking with a woman who wasn't his wife. I'll never forgive the party for putting him on the ballet with me. Edward Perez was a smart, capable man who would've made one hell of a vice president. But the party went with Jacobs because unlike Perez, he'd been in politics for a while_," she paused, not wanting to discuss her MIA vice president any longer, turning her attention back to the reports. "_From what they've found in Greece recently, we might be cousins to them_."

"_The press is going to shout 'War of the Worlds' unless we can get a handle on this quickly. What do you recommend?"_ Freiberg reminded.

"_We don't have anything to tell them until we make contact with those people again_," the president stated, sitting back in her chair and rubbing her temples. "_Why couldn't this have happened while Evans was still in office? It figures that something of this magnitude knocks on our door after the country elects its first female president. If I don't find the right solution to this, it could ruin the chances for women in politics_," she groaned.

"_Amelia, have you had breakfast yet_?" Freiberg inquired.

She looked back at him and blinked. "_No, I haven't, and I'm starving_."

"_Sometimes things work out better when you don't have an empty stomach. I'll bring back breakfast and then we'll sort this out_," he suggested.

She smiled appreciatively as he stood. "_Thank you_."

When he returned, he found her reading his report while talking on the telephone with what sounded like NASA. She finished the conversation as he approached. "_It was lucky that the drive-thru was almost empty_," he mentioned.

"_People are probably home watching the news_," she added with a smirk.

He took a seat in front of her and removed the food from the bag after handing her a cup of coffee. She raised an eyebrow as he unwrapped his biscuit sandwich. "_I thought you didn't eat sausage_."

"_They're offering turkey sausage now_," he responded.

After they began to eat, she took a drink from her coffee and choked it down. He snorted and she blinked a few times. "_I keep forgetting how strong they make this stuff. I'm awake already_."

He chuckled, simply watching her. "_Find something amusing, General_?" she scolded wryly.

"_Slightly, Madame President_," he stated with a smirk.

Later in _Galactica's_ CIC, Roslin and Adama had finished speaking with NASA and it was decided that they would fly down to Earth and talk with the American government before speaking in front of the United Nations council. Roslin was permitted to have her own security team and the utmost secrecy, along with the utmost safety would be maintained. "The press is going to have a field day when we get back," Roslin mentioned.

Adama nodded. "At least we're finally here. Though we can hope that they'll be friendly, we don't know what they'll expect. I think we should be careful what we tell them about the Cylons," he suggested.

They left the baby with Dee and took a raptor down to the planet. Both were reminded of Caprica as the coast and the cities came into view. Landing at the airport that they had been instructed to, they disembarked and were quickly ushered into black limousines before the oncoming onslaught of reporters met them.

"I suppose the press is the same everywhere," Adama stated.

Roslin fiddled with her hands. "That appears to be true, but what worries me more is the language barrier. I hadn't thought that we wouldn't speak the same language. I wonder what kind of translator they have," the comment made sense, but as he watched her glance out of the window, he knew that the translation issue was not her main concern.

"Laura, what is it?" he asked quietly.

She met his gaze and sighed. "I didn't want to leave Celeste behind. I know that she's safer with Dee right now, but…," she trailed off.

His hands covered hers. "I know. We'll see her in a while and everything with be fine."

The limousine passed through the wrought-iron gates and stopped. The chauffer let them out, gesturing for them to follow him. Adama exited and then offered a hand to Roslin. She took his arm, as was her custom and they walked through the double doors and onto the red carpet. They passed paintings of what they assumed to be past leaders, wearing strange clothes and peculiar hats. With Roslin's detail following, the group stopped in front of an open doorway to what looked like a board room, with a long table and sixteen people, along with men in suits standing near the wall.

"Whoever their leader is, he or she has guards too," Roslin observed.

Adama smirked. "Let's just hope that they don't expect us to give up your guards while we're here."

There were men and women in the group, some in dress suits and regular business suits. One wore a military uniform of sorts. A slender woman in a slate-blue dress suit stood and motioned to two empty chairs near her. She smiled politely and said something that they could not understand.

"_We were expecting a few more of you. Is this your government?_" Amelia was acutely aware of the blank look from her guests. Keeping her political sense of calm, she looked toward the members of her cabinet. "_Do all of you mean to tell me that we don't have translators yet?_"

Her Secretary of Education stood and straightened her ketsup-red crisp dress suit. "_Madame President, the devices have not arrived yet. It took longer than_-" she stopped in mid-sentence when a stout man entered the room with a box.

"_Mr. Arnold, do you have the translation devices?_" Amelia questioned.

He set the box down on the table and removed head-sets for everyone. Amelia gently placed them on her guests, who watched her with surprise as she activated them. Then a small PDA was passed to her and she selected the language before facing her guests again.

"_I hope you'll forgive our delay. Your language is similar to a very ancient one and finding the right translation devices wasn't easy. These_," she paused and gestured to the devices, "_are all networked together. You speak your language into the mouthpiece and we hear our own languages through the earpieces_."

"Thank you. This is Admiral Adama and I am President Roslin," the president began as everyone took a seat. She sized up the woman in front of her. This woman stood slightly shorter, but Roslin had a suspicion that she was someone of authority. For some unknown reason, the woman's eyes darted toward the man in uniform for a moment.

Amelia studied the two people in front of her. The man was controlled and reserved, looking the room over and silently assessing the safety of the situation. She had seen that look on the general before. The woman stood tall, prim, and proper. Amelia also noticed the other woman's rounded shape and assessed that she must have had a baby recently.

"_I will repeat my earlier question, now that we can understand each other, is this your government?_" Amelia inquired.

Adama wondered if this woman was a reporter. He received his answer by noticing how the other people in the room took their cues from her. "There was a holocaust and our worlds were destroyed, along with most of the government. President Roslin was fortunate not to have been planet-side at the time, being at the end of our government's list."

"Our vice-president did not join us in case something were to happen to us," Roslin added.

Amelia nodded and was about to ask another question when Freiberg cleared his throat. "_Madame President, perhaps you should tell them a little more about us so that they don't have to ask who's in charge_," he reminded plainly.

She folded her hands. "_It seems as though I'm a terrible hostess. I'm President Amelia McGeorge and this is my cabinet_." After she introduced them, she decided to address what she had seen that morning on the holo-screen. "_Did your ancestors visit our planet?_"

Roslin explained about the Twelve Tribes of Kobol, also mentioning the tombs of Athena and Hephaestus. "We came here hoping to find a new home," she ended.

"_What happened to your other planets, and why are you carrying nukes if you claim to be on such a peaceful mission?_" Freiberg probed.

Amelia looked over at him and raised an eyebrow, as if he had taken the conversation in a different direction than he had planned. Adama and Roslin exchanged glances, not wanting to tell them about the Cylons so soon. The others at the table watched their silent exchange with interest. Finally, Roslin took a deep breath and spoke.

"Our worlds were destroyed by machine life-forms that have found ways to make themselves organic. They nuked our worlds and we have been on the run from them," she answered.

"_And where do these beings come from?_" another member of the cabinet inquired.

"We initially invented them to serve us, many years ago. Then they rebelled and have been trying to exterminate us ever since. They're the reason for our ships having weapons," Adama explained.

Amelia took a deep breath and folded her hands in front of her. Only Freiberg knew that the gesture signaled how irritated she was. "_So you brought your problem right to our doorstep?_" she began quietly, not facing anyone.

Roslin fiddled with the pencil in front of her, cuing Adama to her own nervousness. "We were hoping that you would have some sort of system concerning planetary defenses-"

"_We don't_," Amelia stated almost sharply. Once glance from Freiberg told her to curb her emotions. "_It has taken eighty years for our space program to gain interest again after we landed on the moon. We barely have scouting vessels_," she told them civilly.

Roslin realized how their situation probably looked. "Please forgive our ignorance of what you are currently doing with your space program, as well as our desire to find a home for what's left of our people."

Amelia realized two things at that moment. First, that she had been more curt than she had intended. Secondly, that this President Roslin was a skilled politician who knew which buttons to push. "_Forgive my bluntness. I was caught off-guard. Just how many of you are there?_" she inquired.

"There are 39,338 of us left," Adama responded.

"39,339," Roslin amended. The two exchanged polite smiles and then returned to business. "We have a shield, but we don't have the power to maintain it."

At that moment, the door opened and a tall lean wan with dark auburn hair in a combed back style and a brief case entered the room. Amelia set her headset on the table and immediately stood, walking over to him. "_Mr. Vice President, where on Earth have you been?_" she demanded evenly. In a voice that only he could here, she whispered, "_Which one of your call girls was it this time?_"

The man sighed rolled his eyes at her. "_Madame President, my car broke down on the way here and I didn't have a chance to call you because the battery on my cell phone ran out after I called a towing place_," he drawled. "Not that my private life is any of your business," he whispered.

She took a moment to explain about their interstellar guests and Jacobs joined the discussion. "_The UN is going to want to hear about this; that's the group comprised of the world representatives_," he explained.

"_Congress will want to know first_," Freiberg cut in.

"_Which is why I was planning on having our guests attend the afternoon conference. We'll make it the first order of business_," Amelia responded.

Roslin slightly raised her hand. "Excuse me, but how many hours away is that?"

Everyone turned to face her, almost having forgotten that she and the admiral were still in the room. "_Three hours. That should give the two of you time to eat something and one of us can give you a brief tour of whatever you want to see_," Amelia offered with a polite smile.

"_We can put you and your guards in a fine hotel for the night and then tomorrow we'll all fly over to the UN conference, wherever they decide to have it after we speak to them_," Jacobs answered. Adama thought that he had Baltar's women problems and Zarek's ability to get things done.

Roslin rested a hand on Adama's forearm and Freiberg noticed that they both wore wedding rings. He raised an eyebrow and she shook her head. Another odd silent exchange went on before Roslin spoke again, turning toward Amelia. "Madame President, Mr. Vice President, we can attend the meeting with your Congress, but we need to return to our own people and give them an update first. I would like to have my vice president with us tomorrow as well."

"_But it wouldn't be a problem to accommodate you. Surely all you would need to do is call your people. It'd be much easier if you stayed on Earth_," Amelia attempted to persuade them.

Roslin smiled politely. "We really do appreciate your offer, but along with what I've mentioned, I have a matter of a more personal nature that can't be left overnight."

"_Very well. Jacqueline Fuller, the Secretary of Education, can give you a tour and we'll see you two in three hours. Everyone is dismissed_," Amelia stated, removing her headset again.

Fuller led Roslin and Adama out into the hall while various cabinet members went off to organize things with Congress and the UN. Freiberg stood slowly and was heading for the door, but he stopped hearing Jacobs and Amelia begin to argue. "_I wouldn't mind if you were late if you didn't do it almost every day!_" she snapped.

Jacobs stood his full height and glared at her. "_How dare you ask me about my private life in front of the cabinet! Granted, no one heard you, but I would think that you'd have some tact_."

"_You walked into the room and tried to show me up_," she threw back.

The vice president scoffed. "_I don't have to show you up. Freiberg seems to do a good job of that, but when he puts his two cents in, you don't seem to mind. Oh, that's right, you can go behind everyone's back and have an affair with the Secretary of Defense, but I can't have a few scummy girlfriends now and then? You're such a hypocrite_," he retorted.

"_How dare you! We are not having an affair!_" she protested.

Jacobs shook his head. "_You're sleeping with_-"

"_That's enough!_" Freiberg bellowed, causing them both to turn, having thought that he had left with the others. "_Mr. Jacobs, the president and I are not having an affair. Now both of you," _he paused and put his hands up to separate the two,_ "I know that you two hate each other, but right now we've got a lot more to worry about than petty differences. Jacobs, don't be late again or she might try to kill you in your sleep. I think you volunteered to set up things with Congress_."

"_It would be the appropriate thing to do_," Jacobs directed the barb at Amelia as he left.

She sighed heavily and Freiberg put a hand on her shoulder so she would look at him. "_Amelia, you've got to stop letting that snake get under your skin. I don't like him any better than you do, but if he knows what bothers you, he'll try to exploit it_."

"_You're right, Jay_," she commented as she rubber her eyes. Her mind went back to the silent exchange between the guests. "_I might have an idea of what President Roslin's personal matter might be. She looks like she could have had a baby recently_."

Freiberg raised an eyebrow at the change of subject, but welcomed it. "_I wouldn't be surprised if it was his child as well as hers. They were wearing wedding rings_."

"_That doesn't mean they're married to each other_," she stated.

"_No, but the ways they looked at each other seemed to imply it_," he pointed out. "_Wouldn't be a bad thing, perhaps just awkward_."

Amelia fiddled with her hands and sighed, not knowing if he was referring to their guests, or to their own situation. She decided to bring up the other topic of concern. "_Where are we going to put that many people? We just don't have the room_."

"_NASA and the scientists have been asking us about colony ships for that planet they've been looking at. According to them, it's habitable and stuff'll probably grow there. Maybe our interstellar friends would be interested_," Freiberg suggested.

"_I'll bring that up with Congress_," she remarked.

In the interim, Fuller had ordered sandwiches to Roslin and Adama before telling them how America was founded. As they were taken outside and over to some of the nearby presidential memorials, Roslin and Adama shared smirks, feeling more like tourists on a vacation than two leaders trying to reach an agreement for their people.

They stopped by a bench and took a seat, simply observing the place around them. "_Is something wrong?_" Fuller inquired.

Both shook their heads. "It's been quite a while since we've been able to visit a place with sunshine and grass," Roslin explained.

Later, they were led to a large room with seats all around and from Fuller's expression, they could tell that she was surprised to see every seat taken. Amelia and Jacobs appeared to explain the situation. Adama and Roslin felt as though they were bugs under a microscope and continued to stand with their arms linked until someone brought them chairs.

Congress asked them if they had any current defenses against the Cylons. "We have a shield of sorts, but we don't have the power supply to run it properly. The shield can disrupt the networking abilities of the Cylon ships as well as hide anything on the other side of it from detection," the admiral explained.

It was suggested that they discuss it with the UN, and one of the senators suggested that they could try running the shield on nuclear energy. The next issue was where the new people should stay. Amelia recommended the new planet that NASA had been researching and explained the exploration idea.

"_You would be free to colonize it if you explore it and send the data back to Earth_," she explained.

The next item was the jump capability of the fleet. "_You don't have to tell us about it now, but we would like to know how it works so we can make our own_," Freiberg requested.

"We will discuss these things with our people and hopefully have a few decisions by the time we are to meet with your UN tomorrow," Roslin stated.

Adama and Roslin headed back to the raptor after the Congressional meeting, exhausted and looking forward to going back to what they considered home for a while. Roslin knew that she would have to speak to the Quorum shortly, but there was someone else that she needed to see first.

They knocked on Dee's door, hearing the unmistakable sound of a crying baby. Dee opened it and looked at the two with relief. "She was fine until about an hour ago. Then she just started crying."

Roslin took the baby and held the infant close to her. "Shh, shh, mommy's here. See, everything's fine. You've got a good set of lungs, don't you? I missed you, little one. There now," as Roslin rocked the baby, Celeste became quiet. "Thank you for watching her."

The admiral cleared his throat. "Yes, thank you. We might need you to watch her again tomorrow. Would it be too much trouble?" Adama inquired.

"It would be fine, sir," Dee replied.

The others left for their quarters. After feeding the baby, Roslin talked with Tory about arranging a meeting with the Quorum, followed by a brief press conference. The Quorum suggested that Adama and Roslin mention shifts of visitors if Colonies were unable to settle on Earth. Finally it was decided that Zarek should accompany them to the UN meeting as well as a few other representatives from the Quorum, and that Diana would come with them to explain the shield. Celeste stayed with them for the meeting, being held by first one parent and then the other.

Finally Adama and Roslin were able to be home for the evening. "I'm so tired that I think I could sleep for days," Roslin mentioned, setting Celeste down in her basket.

Adama yawned and sank down into the couch. "You're not the only one. The message and the coordinates that the sent to CIC were for some place called Vienna, Austria. I can't believe that they still use airplanes on Earth. It's a bit behind where Caprica and the other worlds were."

"Yes, but Miss Fuller told us that Amelia McGeorge is their first female president. And they are interested enough in space travel to explore a little," Roslin remarked.

Adama thought back to the people they had met, rubbing his chin with his index finger. "She and her Secretary of Defense seem to have some kind of… something between them. She was taking cues from him."

Roslin smirked. "They remind me of us a while back. Tired as I am, I'm looking forward to tomorrow."

(My thanks to Mariel3, carolann, Kiyani, miss mcGonagle, Izabella Black, The Breeze, and surfergurlkiwi for reviewing :D)


	17. Calm before the storm

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel. Margaret Vestry and Commander Diana 'Artemis' Genoa are mine.

Chapter 17: Calm before the storm

The group from _Galactica_ met Amelia and others from the American government in front of an old, complex building with a bluish statue of a man on a horse near it. "_I'm so glad that you could join us. The meeting will start soon and the vice president will show you in when he arrives_," Amelia explained.

Everyone wore the headsets, standing in a circle. Adama, Roslin, Zarek, Diana, Margaret, other Quorum representatives, and even two members of the press were preparing to enter a meeting of Earth's main governments. Amelia stepped away from the group as Freiberg walked over to her. Though they were out of hearing range from the others, they could still observe these American leaders.

"_Where is Jacobs? Why couldn't he have just taken the same black limousines as the rest of us? If that man is late to this conference, Jay I swear_-" he cut her off, resting a hand on her shoulder.

"_He'll be here, Amelia. He called the hotel to say that his limousine got lost. There is one thing I should mention_," Freiberg averted his eyes for a moment and Amelia rolled hers.

"_Are you telling me that he wasn't alone? If too much of this matter leaks out, we'll have an ocean of reporters demanding answers we don't have. The man's becoming a liability_," she complained.

At that moment, a taxi pulled up and Jacobs exited the cab, heading straight over to the group. "_Speak of the leech_," Freiberg whispered.

Amelia smirked and they separated. She walked over to Jacobs and spoke in her most polite politician's manner. "_Good morning, Mr. Jacobs. I'm glad you could join us_."

His political persona matched hers as he shook her hand. "_Madame President, I see you have quite a group here. I'll walk them in and leave you to discuss your own strategies with the rest of the cabinet_," he responded, exchanging a look with Freiberg for a second.

The vice president led the group to an area in the middle of the large conference hall with several chairs. After they were seated, Zarek leaned toward Roslin and whispered, "Is everyone's government like that?"

Roslin smirked, knowing that he was referring to Amelia and Freiberg. "No, we're just lucky."

He frowned and looked away, studying the faces of the other countries' leaders in the room. Amelia entered later with the rest of her cabinet and the meeting began. Everyone in the room wore headsets so that all was understood. The American president introduced Roslin and her group, allowing them to explain their situation.

The discussion seemed to move along well and it was even decided that the Colonials would come down to Earth in shifts for vacations before exploring and colonizing the planet that NASA and the other space organizations had been observing. Then it was necessary to mention the Cylon threat and pandemonium erupted.

"_Are you telling us that we will be using weapons that we signed agreements years ago never to use again?_" President Manchu Fa of China requested.

"We have a shield that, with the proper amount of power, could protect Earth from detection," Margaret interjected.

"_Then please, elaborate on how it works_," the Chinese president prompted.

The question was fielded to Diana. "It knocks out the Cylon's networks and then they're sittin' ducks. Well, it knocks out any ship's network, actually. They can't detect anything inside the shield and that'll give you time to fire on those dang human-impersonators. You're gonna get one doozy of a fire-works display," she answered.

The entire room eyed her with curiosity and for a solid minute, no one spoke. Finally President Ivan Kruklov of Russia spoke. "_You should have told us to add another language. Our translators cannot decipher much of what she said_."

Adama glanced at Diana and sighed before facing the others. "We all share the same language, but some of us have different accents." He reiterated what Diana had been trying to tell them and they conferred on the information.

It was decided that exploration reports of the new planet would be sent to all countries, as well as additional information on the Cylons and the FTL drives. Though Earth had spent years avoiding nuclear power after certain peace treaties in the 2020's, it was decided that they would try powering the shield with nuclear power in order for it to sustain itself longer. The Colonials were surprised at how many different governments operated on Earth, as well as the rich diversity of cultures. The Colonials had spread out their cultures onto twelve planets while these Earth people had been crammed onto one.

The representatives from Italy and Greece wanted historical information about the Colonials. Amelia realized that the important topics had been discussed and now they were only looking at the minor details. She had once been a college professor of history and could tell at meetings when everyone's interests began to drift. Even Jacobs was looking bored as he yawned. Amelia resisted the urge to roll her eyes when she noticed that he was watching one of the Colonial representatives, a blonde woman with glasses.

Standing, Amelia requested a break for the sake of their guests. The other countries deliberated for a moment and agreed that it would be appropriate before final decisions were made. As people piled out into the halls, someone handed a newspaper of sorts to Freiberg. "_Crap_," Amelia heard him say.

She walked off to buy a couple of raspberry pastries. The general found her and cleared his throat. "_Madame President, if you'll join me for a moment_," he requested.

"_Of course, General_," she responded with a nod, following him into a small austere room off to the side. The walls were bare and four chairs along with one table were the only furniture in the room.

Freiberg seemed to look over the room quickly and then he closed the door behind them. As if working on auto-pilot, Amelia stood on one side of the table while Freiberg stood across from her. "_You don't want to see this, but you need to_," he stated as he handed her the newspaper.

She set the pastries down in order to leaf through it. Then she took her pen out of her pocket and underlined a few things. "_This is absolutely ludicrous! 'America Conspires with Extraterrestrials,' 'American Government Being Taken Over by Aliens.' Who comes up with this crap? Better yet, how are we going to fix this?_"

Freiberg paced from one side of the room to the other, coming back to where Amelia stood. "_Much as I hate the idea, I think that our best option is a press conference, one that would include a few interviews with the Colonials_," he admitted.

Handing him one pastry, she began eating the other. "_You're probably right, I just despise dealing with the press_." She set the paper down and picked up the pen, fiddling with it, moving it between her fingers as she ate the pastry, holding it with her other hand.

She had stopped paying attention to how far down the pen was and it suddenly flew against one of the walls. Freiberg snorted and shook his head. "I suppose we're lucky that it was only a pen. They've kept any sharp objects out of this room."

Smirking, she laughed lightly. "_And all the breakables_." He laughed with her as they finished their food. Then she looked back at him. "_Jay, this is such a mess. It's too bad that we can't give the press some sort of diversion_."

He raised an eyebrow, looking at her incredulously. Then with a more serious expression, he eyed her from head to toe. "_That would depend on how big of a diversion you want_," he stated plainly.

She watched him curiously for a moment and then the wheels began to turn in her head and her eyes widened. "_Oh no, that kind of a diversion could cost me my office, as well as any shred of a chance for women after me to become president. It would be a very bad idea_," she remarked, making dismissive gestures with her hands as she walked over to his side of the table. "_And I refuse to give Jacobs any dirt on either of us._"

"_It would completely damage both of our careers if it ever got out_," he teased with a wry grin.

"_This is a dangerous conversation, Jay_," she warned, but only half-seriously.

He chuckled. "_Why? Are you planning on assaulting me with your pen?_"

"_You just like to watch me squirm while you joke about the prospect of a scandal_," she scolded, swatting his arm playfully before laughing as well. After a few moments, she took a deep breath. "_We really should get back to the conference_."

"_You just want to throw pens at people if they look like they're falling asleep_," he goaded her.

She giggled, but cleared her throat in an attempt to cover it up. "_There are a few things here that we should take seriously_-" she paused as she took a good look at his face. Quickly she pulled a napkin out of her jacket pocket, grateful that no one else was in the hallway yet. "_You've got some raspberry jam from the pastry on your mouth and it looks like lipstick_," she explained as she wiped it off."

"_Thanks, but you do realize that I could've done that myself_," he commented.

"_I know, but now it's gone and no one can wonder how something that matches the color of my lipstick ended up on your face_," she teased back.

"_And here I thought you were looking for a diversion_," he joked in a whisper as he led her back to her seat.

The end details of the meeting were brief and it was decided that the Colonials could visit Earth in groups for 'shore leave.' The group returned to _Galactica_ after a press conference that their own reporters held on Earth, briefly questioning a few other leaders. Roslin and Adama's first stop was to pick up their daughter from Dee. On their way, Diana kept pace with them.

"I am so embarrassed. I'm sorry about them not understandin' me, Bill," she conveyed.

He put up a hand dismissively. "It's fine. It isn't your fault, so don't feel bad. From what I can gather about Earth, people have different accents there too."

"Thanks. I'll just head back to the _Cassiopeia_. You mind sendin' Saul over my way when his shift's done?" Diana inquired.

"Sure. You have plans?" he teased lightly.

"Actually he's makin' dinner," she replied with a smile.

Adama eyed her incredulously. "You got him to cook?"

Diana grinned back. "He offered. Said he had somethin' in mind."

She left and the other two continued on their original course. Celeste was not crying this time, but nearly squirmed out of Dee's arms to find her mother when she heard Roslin's voice. Roslin took the baby and held her closely. When they reached their quarters, she held the baby as she sat down on the couch next to her husband.

"I'm glad we're through with negotiations for a while. I really don't like being away from her so long," Roslin relayed.

"Things seem safe enough that she should be able to come with us the next time we visit Earth. I've heard a lot of good things about this place called 'Hawaii' and I think we should make a trip to see it before we explore this other planet that they've offered us," he mentioned, holding the baby for a while.

"That does sound like a good idea," she added. When she smiled, he noticed that it did not reach her eyes.

"But?" he prompted.

She sighed and looked out in front of her. "Bill, this is too easy. Shield or no shield, I have this feeling that the Cylons are going to come back and attack again."

He set the baby in her basket and then enveloped Roslin in a secure hug. "That may be true, but we need to enjoy the moments we have to be people again. Cylons or not, we are taking a vacation."

When she turned, he saw her grin brightly. "I think I could live with that," she commented before kissing him affectionately.

Later, Tory found Roslin while Adama headed over to CIC to check on the fleet. Tory set up a schedule to help Roslin return to a routine, figuring on allowing the president to keep the baby with her. They also figured on sending people in groups on trips with a number of translation devices.

"Of course they wouldn't have enough for a few thousand people, but some people could lead groups wearing them," Roslin suggested.

Tory nodded, looking past Roslin toward the window. "Part of me never thought that we would get this far," she said almost wistfully.

The president looked over at her aide with sympathy. "I'm sorry that you can't go down too."

"It's fine, Madame President. I'll just look forward to settling on the new planet," Tory remarked politely.

Roslin remembered what Baltar had been trying to do and held her tongue, deciding to speak with Cottle later. In CIC, Adama and Tigh checked the fleet status, also scanning the area for other ships. "Looks too good to be true," Tigh stated.

Adama nodded. "I know the feeling. We might as well be prepared for them in case they do show up though. Are our weapons systems still functional?"

"Yes sir. Whenever those frakking toasters do decide to show themselves, we're ready," the XO relayed.

Glancing at his watch, the admiral smiled calmly at his friend. "It seems to be the end of your shift, Saul. A certain woman that we both know told me that you offered to cook her dinner," Adama began.

It was one of the few times in history that Saul Tigh blushed. "I… wanted to propose to her. Thought that making dinner'd be a good start."

The admiral let a broad grin slip through the usual reserve he had while on duty. "Good luck. You both deserve to be happy," he added before dismissing Tigh.

The colonel flew over to the _Cassiopeia _and was met by the commander herself. "Permission to come aboard," he requested.

"Permission granted. It's about time you showed up," she teased him with a grin as he exited the Raptor.

They walked to her quarters and as soon as the door was shut, they greeted each other, kissing soundly. "I still can't believe you actually volunteered to cook," she goaded him.

"It's nice to see you too," he commented wryly as he wandered over to her kitchen. He pulled out a folded piece of paper that he had shoved into his left pocket. "Looks like you've got everything I need. I'll tell you when it's ready," he mentioned. "How's Earth?"

Diana spoke from her couch. "It's beautiful, Saul. I think it's gotta be spring there. Grass is nice and green, the sun's warm, people are real friendly too. But their translatin' devices need work. I was tellin' them about the shield and one of 'em said that I was speakin' another language that hadn't been programmed into the system. I couldn't have been more embarrassed if one of them four-legged rugs from my ship had appeared in the room."

"We'll probably have to learn what they speak," he commented.

She shrugged. "Next time I'm down there, you're gonna come with me."

He smirked as he carried out two plates of food. "Yes, ma'am."

They ate steak, mashed potatoes, and green beans, thanks to the food supplies of the _Cassiopeia_. Discussing whether or not to go planet-side, they talked about future ideas and she told him about maintaining the shield with nuclear power plants. She also told him about the 'shore leave' aspect.

"We can see it together. From what grain of salt I know about it, there's so much to see down there. I'd love it if we could go together," she relayed.

He smiled and walked over to her, bending to kiss her warmly. "I've got one better than just goin' to Earth," he stated, backing away and fumbling through his right pocket.

She raised an eyebrow and watched him curiously. "What are you up to?" she probed.

With great effort, he managed to kneel as he removed a small brown box from his right pocket. Inside was a small gold ring with a rose shape that held a round diamond. She gasped, "This is beautiful. I'm not even gonna ask where you found this."

He placed it on her left hand. "You picked me up and gave me a good ass-kicking when I thought I was a Cylon. Then the more you stuck your nose in my business, the less I minded. I don't know why in the gods' names you're in love with me, but I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I love you, Diana. Will you marry me?"

She grinned and threw her arms around his neck. "I'd be a plum idiot not to say yes, and I love you too. How soon do you want to do this?"

"I was thinking that we'd get married on Earth when we get shore leave," he suggested.

"That's just fine with me," she relayed before they kissed passionately.

While Diana and Tigh were having dinner, Adama came back to his quarters for a while. "What are you smiling at?" Roslin inquired as he walked through the hatch.

"Saul's planning on proposing to Diana," he mentioned.

"That's good news. I think they'll be happy together," Roslin responded.

Adama noticed that Roslin was heading for the door with Celeste. "Where are you going?"

"I want an update on what is going on with Baltar from Jack," she explained. "Coming?" He nodded in response.

They entered Life Station and found Cottle bent over a microscope. He stood and walked over to them. "It's a good thing you two showed up. I was gonna find you in a minute. I think you'll want to hear what we've found."

"How is the Cylon?" Roslin asked quietly.

"I've given her the medication that I gave the others in her position. It keeps her alive, but it's no cure. She will die from it. As for Baltar," Cottle paused and gestured to where Baltar sat, next to a bed as he held Angela's hand, "he's not going anywhere, and he's come up with a genuine vaccine. It won't help her, but if you give it to an ordinary Cylon, then that Cylon can survive on Earth like the rest of us."

"What about Athena?" Adama inquired.

"From having carried a half-human child, she has human antibodies and will most likely not need the vaccine. However, the vaccine should work for Tory, the chief, and Anders," the doctor relayed.

Roslin paced slightly before facing him again. "You can give it to them, but make sure that you are the only one who knows where it is."

Adama and Roslin left a few minutes later, discussing further plans for their trip to Hawaii. "I heard it's some sort of island," Adama began.

"Is it a desert island, or do you think it's one of those tropical, volcanic ones?" Roslin mused as she set Celeste in her basket.

"I think it's probably a tropical one because the people who told me about it kept talking about flowers," he responded.

She wandered over to him and laced her fingers with his. "It would be nice to have a real honeymoon, don't you think?"

He turned and saw the mischief in her expression. She shivered as his lips trailed down her neck. He spoke after kissing her lips. "I think it's a great idea. The Cylons can take a rain check for a couple of days."

Giggling, she kissed him affectionately. "Somehow I don't think they would react well to being handed a 'Do Not Disturb' sign."

"We could make them one out of nuclear warheads," he teased. She shook her head, still laughing as they headed off to bed and curled up with each other for the night.

(My thanks to miss mcGonagle, carolann, Mariel3, LavenderKate, Kiyani, Sammy-Girl001, OldFashionedGrl, Izabella Black, and The Breeze for reviewing :D)


	18. Misinformation and collisions

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel. Margaret Vestry, Commander Diana 'Artemis' Genoa, Amelia McGeorge, and Jay Freiberg are mine.

Chapter 18: Misinformation and colisions

The Raptor landed in Honolulu's airport. As Adama and Roslin disembarked with Celeste, people greeted them, placing flower lays around their necks. They would later learn that the sweet-smelling white flowers were called plumeria. The hotel they were to stay at was right on the beach, giving them not only a magnificent view of the aqua-blue ocean, but also a nice place to take a walk later. As they settled into their suit, Roslin noticed that a bassinet had been provided for them.

"How nice of President McGeorge to set all this up for us," Roslin commented.

Adama nodded. "Yes, this is fantastic. We have three days and three nights to actually relax," he paused and spotted a note on the table near the kitchenette that the suit also included. "She left us a note too. '_Dear Madame President and Admiral Adama, I hope you enjoy your stay on Hawaii. There are shops worth looking into for clothing and souvenirs. Since your situation is unique and it is unlikely that you would have currency, we have made an agreement with the shops to give you a line of credit while you are here that will not have to be reimbursed. It is our gift to you. There are guidebooks and tours at the front desk, and in your room we have left translating devices. The local restaurants have been informed of your language and we have placed our equivalent of it in their databases. Have a good trip and do not forget that a place with as much sun as this will require sun screen. You will find a few bottles in the bathroom. There is also a text book from a theological college that converts Ancient Greek to English. We thought that you might want to try a few words in English. Amelia K. McGeorge_.'"

Everything was where Amelia had told them it was. After making certain to apply the sun screen and keep the baby well shaded, they decided to visit a few shops. One store sold, along with clothing, a carrier for infants that parents could wear. It could be worn on the front or the back, so as to keep the baby close without tiring the parents' arms out. They decided to get clothes in the store as well so that they did not look so horribly out of place.

The hotel had a restaurant that they wanted to try and Adama brought the book with them to learn a few English phrases. Fortunately the menu had pictures and they ordered a chicken dish. The appetizer was brought out and they were able to taste fruit that they had not seen before. As Roslin tried some of the fruit, Adama leafed through the textbook.

"'_Please_, '_thank you_' and '_you're welcome_' look alright, but I can tell you that the hardest thing about learning this language is going to be the alphabet. It looks so different from ours and it has more letters. I suppose there are some similarities, but they have all these extra sounds," he observed.

Roslin glanced at the page he was looking at. "It does look complicated." After she had spoken, a few people from different tables glanced at them. "Our language must be one they don't hear often."

"Probably," Adama agreed.

She took a bite of a yellowish segmented fruit and blinked, wide-eyed. "Bill, you've got to try this," she remarked handing him a piece.

He took a bite and his reaction mirrored hers. "This is really good. Waiter, what kind of fruit is this?" he asked using the translation device.

The waiter eyed them strangely, as if they had asked him why his socks were white. Then he spotted the book on translating Ancient Greek to English and understood. "_Sir, that is a pineapple. It grows in tropical areas like this one_," he relayed politely. He went on to point out what the other fruits on the tray were, having been informed about the visitors prior to the day's meeting.

Adama and Roslin also took a walk down the beach with Celeste, deciding to forego shoes and enjoy the white sand. The baby seemed to like the breeze and would make soft cooing noises. "Was there ever a place like this in the Twelve Colonies?" Adama asked casually.

Roslin sighed and smiled. "I don't think so, not quite like this. I've certainly never seen fruit like they have here. It's also fascinating how so many different languages could exist on the same planet. We may have had different accents and dialects, but with twelve planets, we had basically one common language."

Later in the evening, after they had put Celeste to bed for the night, the hotel delivered a complimentary fruit platter to their suit. Along with pineapple, it contained various other tropical fruits. "The waiter must've said something," Adama remarked with a grin.

They lounged on the bed, watching the sunset as they munched on a few pieces of fruit. Roslin smiled over at him, sliding a small piece of passion fruit off a toothpick. "Bill, this is the first time in a long while that we've been alone with no chance of anyone bothering us."

Adama chuckled. "I keep expecting a phone to ring, telling me that there's some sort of emergency in CIC. I haven't had an actual vacation in several years." As he stared at the platter, an idea occurred to him. He slid a piece of fruit off the toothpick and fed it to her. She giggled and copied his idea.

However, after a few exchanges, the platter was moved aside and her lips found his for a passionate kiss. One of his hands got lost in her hair as he trailed kisses down her neck and over her collarbone. "I do believe that a few aspects of our marriage are long overdue," she whispered suggestively.

"I couldn't agree more," he added hoarsely before kissing her deeply.

The following day on the way back from another walk, they found a girl sitting by herself on the beach in front of their hotel, crying. Roslin handed Celeste and the carrier to Adama and approached the girl. She sniffed and looked over at the auburn-haired woman. Roslin assessed that the girl could not have been older than six. Her black hair was pulled back in two pigtails and she spoke in a language that took their translating devices a few moments to process.

"_I can't find mommy_," the girl had said.

"Do you know if this is your hotel?" Roslin questioned, pointing to the building behind the girl.

She nodded. "_Mommy got lost from me_," the girl explained in her own logic.

"Why don't you walk with us to the front desk and we'll tell them that you're looking for her?" Roslin suggested.

The girl looked from her to Adama, who approached holding Celeste. She seemed to think for a moment and then stood up, brushing the sand off of her light blue dress. They walked to the front desk and the girl told the clerk about her mother. After placing a few calls, the clerk found her mother, who had been searching the restaurant for the girl. The mother enthusiastically thanked Roslin and Adama for helping her daughter.

As they walked to the restaurant for their own meal, Roslin took Celeste back and looked down at her. "Now don't you ever get lost like that," she instructed, smiling at the noise the baby made, almost as if she could understand.

The three headed back to the Raptor at the close of the vacation, only to be stopped by the hotel manager, who rushed out with a phone of sorts. President McGeorge was on the other end. "_I'm so sorry to bother you like this, but the other leaders at the embassies and my own press people are demanding an interview with the two of you. If it's not too inconvenient, I would really appreciate it if you could make a detour to the White House_."

Seeing it as something that would have to be faced eventually, they decided to visit the American president before returning to _Galactica_. When they reached the White House, Amelia felt a stab of guilt, seeing that they still had their baby with them. She walked over to them and greeted them. "_Once again, I cannot apologize enough about this press conference. If you would like, I have an intern who baby-for Congress and I can find her to look after your baby for a while_."

Adama and Roslin exchanged glances. "I suppose that would be alright. I don't want this taking longer than an hour," Roslin told the other woman.

The intern was a small young woman in her mid-twenties with strawberry-blonde curls and soft brown eyes. "_I promise to bring her right back to you_."

With that, Amelia led the other two into the Oval Office for the press conference. They were greeted by some of the foreign ambassadors from the embassies, as well as Amelia's cabinet. Then the press entered the room with their translating microphones and flashing cameras. Freiberg stepped over to where Amelia stood as the press began questioning their guests.

"_Well this is a zoo_," he muttered.

She nodded, the guilt still apparent on her face. "_They came here straight from Hawaii with their baby_," she whispered.

"_If we need to hurry things along for them, we can tell the admiral and the president that their people called, requesting that they return immediately to discuss shore leave procedures_," he recommended.

"_I think that will work_," she responded quietly.

The reporters began by asking Adama and Roslin about why they wanted to find Earth. "Our own planets were destroyed and we set out in search of the lost Thirteenth Tribe of Kobol. Our scrolls and other clues led us here"

"_What you just mentioned coincides with a cave and some writings found in Greece. Do you think there could truly be a correlation between our people and your people?_" an articulate reporter from India inquired.

"Of course. Your mythology in that region even mirrors our own regarding the gods. That would mean that we're distant relations," Adama answered.

"_What do you intend to do while in this region of space?_" a young British woman inquired.

Roslin smiled politely. "Your United Nations has graciously allowed us to settle on a planet that the space facilities of various countries have been researching, provided that we explore it and send our findings back to Earth."

The questions persisted for the entire hour. Roslin and Adama were also informed that certain countries had begun to use their shield technology. Freiberg and Amelia resorted to the excuse they had devised to cut the meeting short. After returning the baby to them, Amelia walked them out to the Raptor. "_Thank you for doing this. Again, I'm sorry for the imposition_."

"It was fine. In fact, you and your world leaders are invited to visit us if they would like. Our press wants to interview you again. You could also just come for a visit and relax if you like," Roslin relayed.

Amelia smiled back graciously. "_That's very kind of you. I need to discuss it with my cabinet first_."

The following day a few other world leaders as well as Amelia and her cabinet stood in _Galactica's_ hanger. The admiral and his officers stood in full military regalia. They were given a tour and then they met again with the Colonial press. Needing to breathe without feeling claustrophobic from being surrounded by reporters, Amelia ducked into a room and found it to be unoccupied, having a large window from which one could look out at not only Earth, but the beautiful expanse of stars beyond it.

Amelia stared out at the stars from the Observation Deck, hearing someone follow her. "_They've got some sort of coffee-like drink and I thought you'd like some_," Freiberg's voice offered.

She turned and smiled as he handed her a cup. "_Thank you. It's been a long day_."

He nodded in agreement and took a gulp of his coffee. "_At least President Roslin and Admiral Adama invited us here for a while to relax. Funny how easy it is to slip away unnoticed from the Secret Service on a… what did they call this? A Battlestar? Anyway, you've somehow managed to ditch the rest of your cabinet also_."

"_You make me sound like some sort of criminal_," she joked. "_Honestly Jay, I didn't 'ditch' anyone. They just weren't watching very well. How did you know where to find me?_"

He grinned sheepishly and she raised an eyebrow. "_Actually your security detail saw where you'd gone and told me to go in after you, since I was someone you wouldn't mind talking to, even if you wanted to be alone_."

"_So I didn't ditch them after all? And you almost made me feel bad_," she scolded.

He chuckled and shook his head. "_You're just sore because your escape plan didn't work_."

They stood in silence for a moment, looking out at the stars. "_Have you ever seen anything like it?_" she asked after a while.

Somehow they had drifted closer to each other. His cup in his right hand, he gently wrapped his left arm around her waist and drew her closer. "_No, I haven't_."

They stayed that way for a moment longer and then Amelia swiftly moved away and faced him, suddenly realizing their proximity to each other. "_We… shouldn't be here like this_."

"_Why not? There's nobody else in here_," he pointed out as they both set their cups down on the floor.

She smirked. "_You're doing it again, joking when I'm trying to have a serious discussion with you_."

Reaching out, he took her hands in his. "_Maybe I'm tired of talking_."

Her mouth went dry and she licked her lips. "_You realize that if we start something here, it'll take twice as much effort to keep a lid on when we go back to Earth_," Amelia reminded, not taking her hands back.

"_Trying not to start something has been harder than attempting to hide it is going to be. Why don't we see where this goes?_" he suggested.

Before she could respond his lips captured hers in a tender kiss. In that brief moment, the president and the general melted away to simply Amelia and Jay, two people. He dropped her hands and wrapped his arms around her waist. Her hands linked behind his neck and the two kissed soundly. The kiss became more passionate and suddenly she pulled away again.

"_How long have we been in here? The security detail is going to think the worst if we stay here too much longer_," she worried.

He retrieved their discarded cups. "_We've been in here about half an hour, as long as it takes two people, who are just talking, to finish a cup of coffee_," he reassured her, passing one of the cups to her. Then she wiped the lipstick off his face.

They began discussing the press again as they left the room so that the security detail's impression was that they had been talking the entire time. The conversation hit a lull and in the comfortable silence, she glanced at her cup. Something was missing, but she could not put her finger on it. As her eyes drifted to Freiberg's cup, she realized what hers was missing: the telltale lipstick mark.

She cleared her throat and he raised an eyebrow. Subtly she pointed to his cup and he realized what she had. He held the cup by the top so that the lipstick smudge was not seen and eventually they passed a trash unit and discarded the cups. After a brief tour of CIC, the guests returned to Earth.

The atmosphere of CIC was cheerful until the telltale noises of the DRADIS came to life again. Adama and Tigh stared at the consoles, noting that their long-range scans indicated a familiar presence. Adama took the wireless and made the fleet-wide announcement.

"Attention all ships, this is the admiral. The Cylons have found us. Keep yourselves armed and prepared. Repeat, the Cylons have found us," he told them.

Hearing that the Cylons had been sited and were nearing the fleet, Margaret decided on her way to pick up her son from day-care to stop by Life Station and visit a few people whom she dared to call friends. Everyone was rushing around her, so no one noticed her slip in and make her way toward the hunched-over man holding the left hand of the sick woman in the bed with his right.

"I came to visit," she stated, lightly placing a hand on Baltar's left shoulder.

He slowly turned his head and looked up at her. "Why? After all I've done to you, why should you visit us?"

"I thought you might want to see a familiar face," she relayed with a calm smile, removing her hand from his shoulder.

Reaching out with his left hand, he caught her right hand. "After all that's happened to you because of me, you came here of your own free will?"

Margaret sighed at his disbelief. "Yes."

They were silent for a moment, Baltar holding both of their hands. "How is your shoulder?" he finally asked.

"It's almost back to normal, thank you," she replied.

Baltar looked down at his shoes for a moment. "Margaret, there's something I must ask… well, what I mean is…"

"Gaius, I'll be okay for a while. Go talk to her," Angela mentioned as she sat up. Seeing Margaret's stunned expression, she decided to clarify a few things. "Your doctor gave me something to keep me alive longer. It works for about three days."

Standing, Baltar took one last look at Angela before walking with Margaret over toward the wall. "How is your son?" he continued politely.

"He's quite well, thank you," she answered.

Baltar made a point of looking directly into her eyes. "You've had nothing but problems when it comes to me. Please, don't pass the same stigma onto your son. He is not to know of my existence as long as I'm alive, and he is never to take my name. You're the only person whose opinion ever truly mattered to me," he admitted. Then he glanced over at the woman in the bed and noticed that she had dozed off. "Except for Angela," he admitted.

"Alright," Margaret agreed.

Angela woke up as they neared the bed. "Gaius, I want to speak to Margaret alone for a moment."

Baltar looked hesitantly at the two of them, but then stepped away. Margaret took the chair which he had previously occupied. "I'm so sorry," she told Angela.

The other blonde woman shook her head. "I chose this. Gaius wasn't trying to save the Cylon race. He made the vaccine for me. I don't know whether you'll believe me or not, but he intended to have me live with him on Earth."

"And now?" Margaret pursued.

"Now, he has you. There is something you need to know. He loves me, but he likes you better. By staying with me as he has, it's only hurting him. Please, take him out for a drink or something. He needs to get out of here for an evening," Angela requested.

"I think I can do that," the other woman replied. "I'll let you rest now and come by later."

For the evening, Margaret had found a babysitter to look after Tony. She came by Life Station and managed to convince Baltar to go with her with Angela's help. They decided to avoid the bar in order to prevent assassinations or other injuries. Since Margaret had no alcohol in her quarters, they headed toward Baltar's. Once inside, he sank down on the couch.

"The bottle of Ambrosia is sitting on the counter and the glasses are in the cupboard directly above it," he called over, having no intention of getting the drinks himself.

Margaret sighed and poured them both a drink. After a few sips he began to sniffle. Then he broke down and sobbed. "Why did she try to do such a thing? Why, after it was so hard to be together again, did she do it?"

Setting her glass down, Margaret rested an arm around his shoulders to comfort him. "Gaius, she was at peace with her decision. Sometimes people feel guided to do things that the rest of us think are bad ideas," she conveyed.

He threw his arms around her, needing something to cry on. She took a deep breath and lightly ran her fingers through his hair, as if she was comforting a child. After a while he pulled away and returned to his drink. "Sorry about that."

"It was no trouble," she stated.

After quickly draining his glass, he realized something about the situation. "I don't think that both of us should allow ourselves to be plastered. One of us needs to keep a clearer head. I feel the need to be plastered for a while. Would you mind terribly if you didn't?"

She smirked at the strangeness of the situation. "It's fine."

He drank more and continued to talk. "I really am sorry that I've been nothing but trouble for you. You're the only one that I feel I can actually trust. You care about people and for that I owe you a debt of gratitude."

"Yet you used me to solve the equation to your vaccine," she reminded calmly.

"I am sorry about that as well, little good it did," he responded, taking another gulp of his drink. They sat in silence for a moment, and then he faced her. "Thank you for being my friend. I need to be alone for a while."

Margaret nodded and stood. "I understand, goodnight," she relayed.

He smiled and replied, "Goodnight," before she left.

A few officers passed her as they hurried to CIC. Adama watched the screens, having given instructions to Diana on what she was to do for the probable battle. Roslin had left Celeste with Dee and stood at Adama's side. Something odd caught here eye as she stared at the viewscreen. "Bill, why is a Cylon raider flying toward the Cylons?" she questioned.

The answer came from Tigh. "There's been an unauthorized launch, sir."

"Hail them," the admiral requested. "This is Admiral Adama. Who are you and where are you going?" he demanded.

The voice that spoke was weak, but determined. "A sacrifice is required. Read the note I left in Life Station and the explanation should be evident."

With the end of the transmission came a call from Cottle. "Bill, the Cylon's gone. One minute she was here, the next she was gone. The medication I gave her must have a better onset effect than I thought."

Adama looked over at two marines. "Bring Baltar here, as well as Dr. Vestry," he instructed. Then he returned to Cottle. "Did she leave a note or anything?"

"I don't see anything at the moment, but I'll look around," the doctor replied.

Soon Margaret and Baltar were brought in to CIC. "Sir, what have we done?" Margaret inquired.

The admiral looked from her to an intoxicated Baltar. "Alright Baltar, your wife's gone back to the Cylons. Do you have any idea why that is? Is she giving them the vaccine? Did the two of you conspire to do this?" he demanded.

Baltar stared at the admiral with wide-eyed panic. "Oh god, she's really left? I don't know anything of the sort. I thought she was sleeping," he paused and turned toward Margaret. "You planned this with her, didn't you? It was your idea to distract me and get me intoxicated so that she could leave, wasn't it?" he accused.

"No! I wouldn't do that! How could I know that she was planning this? I thought that she was too sick. If I'd known about this, I would have tried to stop her," Margaret protested.

Adama shook his head at the two, realizing that they would not be helpful to him. He called Life Station. "Major, is the vaccine still there?"

"Yes, and I did find a note under the bed. 'Dear Gaius, I had to do it. A sacrifice must be made so that others can survive. Humanity must be preserved, even if it's at the cost of my life. One day, you'll understand what sacrifice is, yours and only yours forever, Angela.' I think we're in for one big mess," Cottle remarked.

Adama pinched the bridge of his nose to concentrate before turning back to the other two. "I'm placing both of you in the brig until we have time to sort this out," he informed them.

After they left, Roslin contacted Earth through NASA. "To the residents of Earth, I know you did not intend to test the shield yet, but the Cylons have found us. We are terribly sorry to have brought this burden to you, so I would suggest that you try to activate the shield as soon as possible."

As soon as Amelia heard the message, she assembled her cabinet while the vice president contacted the space programs working with the nuclear power plants in various states. Those working answered their red phones immediately. After a few minutes, Jacobs turned toward the cabinet.

"_The mechanics are in place and they've activated the power grid, but getting the modifications for the energy transference was complicated. They can't guarantee that it'll work,_" he explained.

Amelia licked her dry lips, her eyes focused on the window. "_If this doesn't work, we have no way of preventing global destruction_."

(My thanks to Grammar Maven, Mariel3, miss mcGonagle, Stargatecrazy, carolann, Kiyani, and Izabella Black for reviewing :D)


	19. Sacrifice and renewal

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel. Margaret Vestry, Commander Diana 'Artemis' Genoa, Amelia McGeorge, and Jay Freiberg are mine.

Chapter 19: Sacrifice and renewal

As the Cylon raider docked inside, the Cylons aboard the resurrection ship were not sure what to expect and had weapons pointed at whoever would be emerging. Angela struggled out of the gooey mess and stood, bracing herself against the side of the vessel. Her little jaunt was causing Cottle's medication to wear off faster. An avatar of Boomer walked over to her.

"Well Six, what have you got for us? If you left voluntarily, it had to have been to spy on them," Boomer questioned.

Angela took a labored breath and tried to formulate something that the others would believe. "I know how to stop the humans on the planet without eradicating them, but I need access to a computer panel."

At gunpoint they took her with them and led her to the main control room. She shoved a hand into the wiry mess and abruptly the ship's engines shut down. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" a Brother Cavil demanded as he grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

Her breathing was slightly raspy and she knew that her plan would soon meet its end. "We were wrong to try to exterminate the humans. Did you read the last scroll? I did, and in order to save the human race, a demon will be sacrificed." She would have said more, but even as her arm was held in a vice-like grip, her weakened state had caused her to lose her balance.

"Quick, get her to our doctor. Who knows what they did to her to cause her treachery," a Doral suggested.

Angela lay on the bed as the Cylon doctor continued to stare at the computer, perplexed. "I don't know what this is. I've never seen anything like it. Her immune system can't fight this."

Brother Cavil stepped over to her. "Is this their new weapon? Do they really think they can stop us with a virus?" he interrogated her.

Simply smiling back at him, Angela could see the Baltar in her head crossing his arms and shaking his head at the other Cylons. "This isn't their weapon to use. They tried to stop me. This is our punishment, the Final Death. The punishment is from the Thirteenth Colony-" she stopped to cough up fluid.

"_My, my, I do believe that they actually look worried. You've done well_," her inner Baltar stated as he neared her side and sat down. "_I love you_."

She felt her body begin to shut down as the cough settled momentarily. "Our battle ends now," she told the other Cylons. Then she turned her head toward Baltar. "I love you too, goodbye Gaius," she whispered before closing her eyes.

As the other Cylons watched Angela's final breath, the electricity began to flicker. "What's going on? This shouldn't be happening!" an Eight worried.

A Leoben called from the room where the resurrection tubs were kept. "Something's wrong! We're losing all of the models. What happened?"

In a panic the doctor scanned his results again. "Whatever she was infected with is spreading throughout the entire ship. And it looks like it will spread to everything else we have out here too. It's only a matter of time before we all die like her."

"We should've never released Baltar to them. He probably had something to do with this," Boomer deduced.

Baltar and Margaret were escorted to adjacent cells. Strangely the beds of the cells were next to each other, like two flat park benches back to back. They sat on their corresponding beds and stared out through the bars at the silent guards. "How long do they intend to leave us here?" Margaret asked no one in particular.

"Oh, they'll remember us after the battle and then it won't matter anymore," Baltar responded, his voice hollow.

Margaret slowly looked over at him, reaching through the bars to touch his hand. "I'm so sorry about Angela. I honestly did not know that she was planning this."

He grasped the hand she offered and let a tear slip through. "I know you didn't, and I'm sorry that I blamed you. You've only been trying to help me and yet again I've gotten you in trouble."

As he leaned up against the bars, she leaned too, their foreheads touching. "We will get out of this. Somehow we'll convince the admiral and the president that we had nothing to do with the escape-"

He cut her off. "Margaret, it won't work. Everyone will be after me until the day I die."

They jumped apart in shock as the door burst inward. Guns were fired and the marines guarding them became casualties of war as a group of terrorists dashed into the room and opened Baltar's cell along with Margaret's. Then the men grabbed their new prisoners and dragged them out into the corridor.

"At last we can finish what our other operative failed to do," the one pulling Margaret along stated. "You got in the way the first time."

Baltar squirmed. "Let her go. I'm the one you want!"

"Now do you really expect me to believe that, seeing as how you two are so close?" the ringleader commented.

They stopped at a storage room and there was a pause while one man tried to unlock the door. Baltar and Margaret ended up being placed close together for the moment. An idea had occurred to him has he turned to her. "I can distract them. While I do, you try to run as far away from here as fast as possible," he whispered.

"But what about you?" she asked quietly.

"I've been nothing but trouble to you. Just go," he retorted.

Before they could be dragged into the room, Baltar began to accuse everyone around him of being Cylons and then pretending to babble off the Cylons' master plan. Margaret managed to slip away as planned and made a run for any security officer whom she could find. She rounded a corner and ploughed directly into a couple of marines who had just come from the carnage in the brig.

"Help! Terrorists broke in and kidnapped both myself and Gaius Baltar. They're that way," she pointed frantically.

She and the marines headed down the corridor and stopped at the open doorway of the storage room just in time to hear one single, solitary gunshot. Margaret ran through the doorway to see Baltar on the floor. As the marines rushed in behind her, she did not hear or see anything else as she rushed over to him. Kneeling down next to him so that she was sitting on her feet, she realized that he was still alive and placed his head in her lap.

"I'm sorry that I could not get back to you sooner," she told him.

He blinked up at her and took a labored breath, blood pouring from the wound in his chest. "This is the way it has to be. I understand now what she was trying to tell me. Sacrifice is the only way. This way you'll be free from the stigma that follows me-" he began to cough up blood and she could not hold back tears.

"What happens now?" she inquired, sniffing.

The clarity he felt surprised him. "Now we say goodbye and you live your life with your son. There is one thing… that I want you to know; if it hadn't been Angela… it would've been you. You once… asked me if… there was anyone… whom I ever… truly loved. I… told you… it was Angela. If you… asked me that… again… I would say that I've… come to… love you as well."

"I tried not to get too close to you, not to fall in love with you, but I have," she admitted.

He took one last labored breath. "Goodbye, Margaret."

"Goodbye, Gaius," she replied. Realizing that he was dead, she closed his eyes and slowly stood. Wiping her eyes and walking past the marines as well as the medics, she walked to her quarters and found that her son was doing fine. The medics and the marines called CIC to explain the situation.

"He's dead? How? And she- you let her go. We might need to question her later," Adama responded, hanging up the wireless and turning toward Roslin. "Terrorists broke into the brig to kidnap Baltar and Dr. Vestry. Somehow your friend managed to get away long enough to find a few marines, but by the time they returned, someone had shot Baltar. He's dead."

"In a way I'm relieved, but I should probably visit Margaret later," Roslin resolved, looking back at the viewscreen.

"I wonder what Angela did to the resurrection ship. Its engines are down," Gaeta remarked.

Adama watched as Vipers continued to engage the Cylons. "Get me the _Cassiopeia_. Maybe they're at a better angle to strike at it." He waited while the other Battlestar was contacted. "_Galactica_ Actual to _Cassiopeia_ Actual, the resurrection ship looks down. Can you fire at it?"

Diana's familiar voice came on to the wireless. "Looks like it's in firing range. Pilots seem to be doin' a good job too. What I'd like to know is what kind of crazy formation the Cylons have. They're flyin' around like they're drunk, or they can't see." The others began to notice the same things on the viewscreen that she had pointed out. The smaller Cylon vessels seemed massively disoriented.

The _Cassiopeia_ moved closer to the resurrection ship and began firing. The base ships still seemed coherent and all turned their fire toward the Battlestar. Galactica headed into the fire fight to shoot from behind. Tigh's eyes were glued to the screen as he watched the other ship take more fire. "It's not enough, Bill. They're gonna destroy her ship before we can do enough damage," he worried.

In CIC aboard the _Cassiopeia_, Diana and her officers felt the ship shake and tilt as enemy fire bombarded it. A few consoles surged, including hers and she fell to the floor. Her XO rushed over to her and was relieved to find that she had only hit her head and was still conscious. "I'm okay, dangit. Just help me up," she requested.

She steadied herself and looked at another console, noticing that Earth was fading from her sensors. Taking a labored breath, she faced her officers. "Listen, we're in one doozy of a mess and this Battlestar can't take much more of it. We need to lure those ships out there to the shield. It's the only option we've got. Servin' with all of you has been one heck of a good ride. Now I'm askin' you to be bate and I know it's a lot to ask. As our Admiral Adama would say, it's been an honor and a privilege."

"So say we all," someone added.

Diana turned back to the wireless. "Bill, if we can get the _Cassiopeia_ to the shield, we can stop these toasters dead in their tracks."

"Go ahead, Commander, and be careful," Adama responded.

"Either way, there's gonna be one doozy of a light show. We'll give these tin cans a ride they won't forget," Diana commented.

Tigh had something to say as well. "Diana, you'd better be safe."

"Saul, I've every intention of comin' back. You owe me a wedding," she replied.

_Galactica_ watched as the _Cassiopeia_ backed toward Earth, hoping that the shield worked. Time seemed to hold its breath for a few moments. Then it happened. The Cassiopeia suddenly lost power and the Cylon ships had lost their network. Galactica moved to fire at the Cylons as the other Battlestar drifted out of the shield's protection and radioed them. "_Cassiopeia_ Actual here. We've got some injuries, but we did it."

Adama glanced over at Tigh, who looked quite relieved. "That's good to hear. Good job," he paused and handed the wireless to the colonel.

"One of these days you'll quit scaring the living daylights out of me," he grumbled.

Diana laughed on the other end. "We'll see about that." Adama and Roslin faced each other as they witnessed the destruction of the Cylon fleet.

"I can't believe that it worked," Roslin mentioned with a half-smile, entwining her fingers with his.

"Somehow I have this feeling that the blonde Cylon had a big part in this. She might have had time to infect them with the virus," Adama commented.

"Then I suppose our next step would be to contact Earth," Rosin mentioned.

News of the Cylon fleet had swept the media like wildfire. With the shield up, the entire planet seemed to let out a collective breath. Freiberg walked over to Amelia, looking through the window at the fireworks display in the upper atmosphere that the Cylon ships were making as they came into contact with the shield. Amelia's hands were shaking as she breathed a sigh of relief.

"_We should probably contact the other governments…_," she trailed off, still in shock. They were standing in the Oval Office along with some of the press members, ambassadors, and her cabinet.

NASA called to tell her that the Cylons were defeated. She announced this to the others and they had a moment of celebration. Freiberg reached for her hand and held it for a moment while everyone else was not watching them. "_It's okay now_," he told her.

She nodded and smiled back. "_I know_." Then she left his side and worked with her cabinet to spread the news to the rest of the world, the press by that time being skilled at capturing moment-to-moment news.

As everyone else continued to celebrate, Amelia quietly slipped away out into the private sitting room. Freiberg noticed and followed her after receiving a few more updates on the shield's status. He found her sitting on the couch with her shoes off, staring at nothing in particular. Making his way to a beige cupboard, he lifted two glasses out and set them down on the counter. Then he reached over and grabbed a bottle of brandy. After pouring a small amount in each cup, he returned to her and handed her a glass. She looked up as she felt the cool glass in her hand.

"_I think something stronger than coffee will help_," he remarked.

She nodded and took a deep breath. "_Thank you. I couldn't stand it in there anymore. We came so close to being annihilated that I can't seem to get over the shock_," she paused and looked back at the door she had come through. "_No one saw you come in here, did they_?"

"_I don't think so. They were all too busy making news out of the celebration that the ambassadors were putting on_," he mentioned.

"_Then let's toast. To the Colonials, may they bring continued piece instead of war_," Amelia suggested.

"_And may this be the last of the Cylons we see_," Freiberg added. They took gulps and let the liquid burn down their throats.

He studied her, noticing the circles under her eyes that she had tried to cover with makeup. "_Why don't you take a day off and go to your vacation spot for a couple of days? It's what other presidents have done to relax_," he mentioned.

She smiled politely and shook her head. "_I like your suggestion, but it won't fix the fact that the world leaders expect me to be responsible for our interstellar guests and their actions_."

"_That's an overstatement. Eventually they will make contact as well because they don't want you monopolizing a potential new trading partner_," Freiberg reminded.

His hand came to rest on top of hers as they sat on the couch. "_I know that I should feel happy, the shield worked, but I can't seem to find any peace of mind lately_," she admitted with a deep sigh.

"_Would it help if I told you that this room wasn't being watched or taped_?" he inquired.

Surprise reflected in her eyes as she looked over at him and raised her eyebrows. "_And how would you know a thing like that_?"

"_You wander in here only when there are too many people around and you have nothing else to say to the press. I took the liberty of rewiring a few things to give you a sense that you could go somewhere without being bothered for a while_," he explained.

She smirked and eyed him incredulously as she set her glass down. "_What about security measures_?"

"_No one can get into this room except through your office_," he replied casually. "_Besides, if I was ever worried about you, I followed you in_."

Crossing her arms she shook her head. "_Do you have any idea how much trouble this could turn out to be_?"

"_Depends on how much trouble you want to get into_," he remarked, setting his glass down and facing her.

She laughed heartily. "_Jay, you are one dangerous man_," she scolded half-heartily.

He chuckled. "_And all this time I thought I was a comedian_."

Without warning, he pulled her into a hug, throwing her off balance enough so that she had to lean against him. He half expected her to jump up immediately, but she allowed the embrace to continue for a few minutes. Then she slowly stood and composed herself, straightening her skirt and blouse. He stood as well, placing their glasses in the small sink.

"_I'm surprised that no one's decided to look for me. It would probably be best if we did not walk out of here at the same time_," she recommended, nearing him.

"_You're right_," he commented as he faced her. Then she noticed a glint of mischief in his eyes and he gently cupped her cheek with his hand. "_It would be a terrible shock for someone to just walk in_."

He kissed her tenderly and she responded, quickly wiping the lipstick off his face as they parted. "_You really are going to get me into trouble one of these days_."

"_Madame President, my job is to keep you out of trouble. Sometimes that means letting you be 'Amelia' for your own sanity_," he stated wryly.

She gave him a smile that was almost flirtatious. "_I'll make you a deal; I will take your recommended trip to the cabin if you can find a way to join me that doesn't look suspicious_."

"_I've already got an answer. We can invite a few of the Colonials as well. I'll be there to compare defense histories with the admiral_," Freiberg responded logically.

(A/N: My apologies for the long wait between postings. I had planned this to be the end, but it was so long that I had to split it into two chapters, so there is one chapter left to this piece).

(My thanks to Mariel3, miss mcGonagle, carolann, Kiyani, Stargatecrazy, Izabella Black, and wolfdream for reviewing :D)


	20. All's well that ends

Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica belongs to Ronald D. Moore and the Sci-Fi channel. Margaret Vestry, Commander Diana 'Artemis' Genoa, Amelia McGeorge, and Jay Freiberg are mine.

Chapter 20: All's well that ends

After a brief conversation with NASA, Adama had sent Tigh over to the _Cassiopeia_, knowing that he would want to see Diana. He found her in the _Cassiopeia's_ Life Station as the doctor inspected the cut on her head. "I don't expect it to scar," he commented as he placed a bandage over it, "but you should expect one hell of a headache."

"She's lucky that's the worst of it," Tigh scolded as he walked over to her. "Do you have any idea what you've put me through?"

Diana slid off the bed. "I run a Battlestar. Danger's part of the job. I can't just hide behind some dang moon every time there's a battle. Takin' my ship over toward the shield was the best plan," she argued.

He sighed heavily. "I still don't like it," he admitted flatly.

"Why? Because I ain't the kind of woman who sits around in her quarters all day knittin'? I can't knit worth a darn and it's not where I belong," she tried to explain, hoping that this conversation was not going to end their engagement.

Pulling her into a hug, he kissed the top of her head. "That's not what I meant at all. I love you, and when you're over here I can't protect you," he conveyed.

She looked up at him. "Saul?"

"Yeah?" he responded.

"I want to get married soon as we get shore leave to see Earth," she told him.

He kissed her soundly and then replied, "Now that's a good plan."

Tigh and Diana came to Earth with Adama, Roslin, and Celeste to be guests of the president's at her cabin outside of Yellowstone National Park. It looked as thought it could have been a bed-and-breakfast with its two-story view from the hill. Pine and fir trees hid parts it. Cedar-colored log citing caused he structure to look like a log cabin. Diana grinned broadly as she took in her surroundings.

"I haven't been out in the woods since I was knee-high to my grandpa's water pump. Used to spend summers with my grandparents, but even they didn't see as much of the woods as this place," she remarked as Amelia and Freiberg approached them.

"_What did she say_?" Amelia asked Adama.

"She said she likes the place," the admiral summarized.

The American president smiled and shook hands with everyone. "_Welcome. I'm glad that you could join us. I'll show you your rooms_," she stated.

Roslin smirked. "You mean you don't have servants for a place like this?"

"_I have my security detail, but servants aren't necessary. The White House has tour guides. This is where I go to take a break from all that. Is I mentioned earlier, I've got three days before I have to get back to business, but all of you are welcome to stay for the rest of the week_," she offered.

Shifting the carrier holding Celeste from her back to her front, Roslin spoke again. "That's very generous of you, but we have duties of our own, so three days will probably be sufficient. Thank you again for offering this."

Roslin noticed when, for a brief second, Amelia caught the general's eye. "_It was no trouble. I really needed a short break as well_," she mentioned.

Freiberg had backed up the line and called to the others as they ascended the carpeted staircase. "_If you need anything I can drive into town_."

Tigh stepped back and walked with him. "There's one thing I need," he began in a whisper, "I'd really like to have a ring for my fiancé. I promised her we'd get married on Earth during our shore leave here."

Unconsciously Freiberg's eyes strayed to Amelia. "_I understand. It might take some looking, but I think I know a place_," he responded.

When Roslin and Adama reached their room, they sat down on the bed, exhausted from the last few days. Roslin then noticed a portable bassinet. "Bill look, she really is a good hostess. I wonder if it's a requirement in this country."

He smiled and kissed his wife on the cheek. "I don't know, but this is the most vacation time I've ever had at one time."

Roslin stood and placed Celeste in the bassinet. "It is incredible. Tory sent me with paperwork to go over this time though."

"That's fine as long as you make time for the rest of us," he remarked, walking over to her and kissed her soundly.

She blushed and smiled. "Why Bill Adama, are you teasing me? You should know better than to tease an expert at the game," she goaded him.

He caught her around the waist with his left arm and reached to cup her cheek with is right hand. "I'm not teasing, I'm just reminding," he told her.

"Nothing on Earth or beyond could cause me not to have time for you or Celeste," she whispered.

They met each other halfway in a passionate kiss. The kiss deepened and they pulled closer to each other. Someone knocked on the door and they separated slowly, sharing mischievous grins before opening it. Tigh stood in the doorway. "Sorry to interrupt you two," he began as he and Roslin noticed the lipstick on Adama's face. "I have two favors to ask."

"Go on," Adama prompted while Roslin wiped the lipstick off with her thumb.

"First, I'd like you to marry Diana and me tomorrow afternoon, if you don't mind," Tigh requested.

Adama pulled his friend into a hug. "Of course. Aside from Laura here, you're my best friend," the admiral added.

"And the other favor?" Roslin inquired.

Tigh cleared his throat and looked around, noting that Diana was not in sight. "The general and I are heading into town to find her a ring. Would you two keep her occupied so she doesn't ask too many questions?"

"Certainly. I'm sure we can come up with something," Roslin conveyed with a warm smile.

Adama thought for a minute and then and idea flashed in his mind. "Saul, if I go with you two, we can say that you and I are answering certain military questions that the general wanted to know about," he suggested.

"Sounds like a good idea," Tigh replied.

Later while the men left to discuss supposed military matters, Roslin and Diana sat in the kitchen with Celeste while Amelia showed them how to cook an Earth meal called spaghetti and meatballs with garlic bread. Roslin stood and walked over to Amelia as she stirred the noodles in the pot. "We have a dish similar to this. It's fascinating to compare our cultures. Comparing cookbooks would be interesting. Do you cook to relax too?" the President of the Twelve Colonies inquired.

Amelia smiled politely. "_Yes, but don't tell Jay. He thinks I hate cooking and brings me food when I'm having a bad day_."

The woman laughed. "Who's Jay?" Diana asked.

The American president blushed, realizing her slip of the tongue. "_I meant General Freiberg_," she attempted to amend after Roslin translated for Diana.

"Don't worry; your secret's safe with us," Roslin conveyed.

The rest of the dinner preparations continued quietly with the occasional cooking question. By the time the men returned, Celeste was ready to sleep for a while and Roslin headed upstairs to put the baby to bed. Dinner was eating with friendly conversation and as the evening winded down, the couples broke off in their own directions.

Diana and Tigh walked outside to listen to the sounds of the animals. "It's been years since I've heard wolves. Those four-legged rugs are pesky and nothin' but trouble. The critters here are much better."

Tigh chuckled and shook his head. "Let's just hope that those things you've got on your ship can survive on the planet we're supposed to live on. Why I'll bet…," he trailed off when he noticed the stars. "They didn't even look this good most of the time on New Caprica. What do you think of those?" he asked as he pointed up.

She glanced up and smiled approvingly. "I think they look better planet-side, or maybe it's the company," the relayed, turning to kiss him affectionately.

Adama and Roslin had mentioned Tigh's plans to Amelia before heading toward their room. They took their showers and were scanning the papers the Tory had sent. "Tomorrow should be interesting. Diana is the only one who doesn't know what is going on," Roslin mentioned.

"I'm just glad that President McGeorge doesn't mind us interrupting her peace and quiet to throw a small wedding," Adama commented.

"She seemed to like the idea when we mentioned it. And now I'm certain that there's something between her and the general. Did you notice the way they kept looking at each other again?" Roslin pointed out, flipping to the next file.

"Actually yes. I have this sneaking suspicion that our being here had more to do with whatever's between the two of them than us being guests again," Adama suggested.

She giggled. "Do you mean to tell me that they needed an excuse so that their being here didn't look awkward?"

"The media on Earth seems even more bloodthirsty than ours. I think it's a good bet," he mentioned. Then he set the file he was looking through on the floor. "I think I've had enough paperwork for one evening. How about you?" Roslin's response was to let her file also fall to the floor as she giggled again and pulled him closer to her.

Amelia sat on the brown leather couch near the crackling fireplace, sipping a glass of brandy. Freiberg stepped up behind her. "_I forgot how quiet it was here_," she told him.

He sat across from her in a chair with his own glass in hand. "_I'd say that's a good thing_."

As they both a drink, she eyed him curiously. "_I noticed the security guards heading outside. What exactly did you tell them_?" Amelia inquired.

Freiberg smiled confidently, pausing to enjoy the look of anticipation on her face as she waited for his explanation. "_I told them to come back in the morning because the president and I were going to be busy_," he answered frankly.

She laughed and stared at him incredulously. "_I really hope you didn't tell them that_!"

He laughed with her and shook his head. "_You know me better than that. Part of my job is protecting your reputation. I told them to stay outside and check for prowlers_."

"_And here you nearly gave me a heart attack_," she scolded.

"_I did not; you were laughing_," he reminded, reaching into the back pocket of his tan trousers.

"_So I was. What have you got_?" she probed.

He slapped a bicycle deck of cards down on the coffee table between them. "_Are you up for a round of gin_?" he questioned, taking in her appearance as she crossed her shoeless ankles.

Both were still in semi-work attire, him with his white collared shirt and trousers, her with fir-tree green skirt and matching blazer covering a cream blouse. She dealt him a rare sultry smile and replied, "_Are you_?"

He dealt the cards out like a Los Vegas blackjack dealer and grinned back. "_Why wouldn't I be_?"

She picked up her cards and crossed her knees. "_You seem slightly distracted_."

The game began with her setting down three fives. He set his glass on the table at the same time as she did, purposely letting their fingers brush. And then his eyes washed over her in a way that made her blush.

She accidentally knocked part of the deck off with her other hand. Hastily she put it back together and he snorted. "_Are you sure you're not the one who's distracted_?"

"_Of course not_," she replied with a slow feline grin, laying a card down and lifting up another one, inserting it into her pile with a graceful dexterity.

He loosened the top two buttons of his shirt and set down four jacks. "_That fire's doing a good job of heating the room_."

She slowly slid her blazer off and stretched languorously. "_Yes, it is_," she paused and put down four eights. "_What made you remember the cards_?"

"_You'll laugh_," he stated, picking up a card and setting another down in the discard pile.

"_Oh just tell me_," she prodded, lazily running her finger tips over her cards.

"_I haven't worn these pants since the last time we played_," he admitted wryly.

She chuckled lightly and licked her lips. "_It just means that you don't go casual very often. If you want something to laugh about, I remember the first time we played cards. It was the one and only time that you've seen me drunk_."

He found her free hand and enfolded it in his to caress it while glancing at his cards and putting down three queens. "_It was on election night. You were so nervous that you didn't know someone had spiked the lemonade. I brought you a cup of coffee and we played gin waiting for the results_."

"_And you told me that if I win, I get to be president_," she recalled, leaning on one elbow as he released her hand.

He played his cards and she giggled. Raising an eyebrow, he asked, "_What's so funny_?"

"_You just put a queen into the discard pile when you've got three queens on the table_," she pointed out, leaning forward on both elbows and grinning.

"_Maybe I am a little distracted_," he remarked, clearing his throat.

She stood, placing one hand on the table and the other on the cards he was holding. "_Jay_."

Dropping the cards, he reached up to cup her cheek. "_Yeah_?" he asked hoarsely.

Leaning closer to him, her breath quickened and her voice grew quieter. "_Forget the cards_."

He pulled her closer and captured her lips in a passionate kiss. As he deepened the kiss, neither of them noticed that the cards had been knocked to the floor. That last coherent thought that flashed through Amelia's mind was that she was glad she decided to have curtains on her cabin. He scooped her up in his arms and broke the kiss to look her in the eyes.

"_I love you_," he whispered.

"_I know, and I love you too_," she admitted.

"_Are you sure about this_?" he asked, being a gentleman.

She grinned at him again and kissed him soundly. "_Yes_," she replied. He carried her into the downstairs bedroom and shut the door.

Roslin and Adama were the first ones awake and wandering around the next morning. Celeste had awakened early and her parents were looking for coffee. Adama carried Celeste as he and Roslin walked downstairs, each fully clothed to meet whatever the day had in store. When they reached the living room, Roslin noticed that cards where scattered around the coffee table on the floor.

"I wonder what happened here," she mused, also noticing a pair of high-heeled shoes and a blazer.

"These cards aren't like any of ours, so I'd say that it had something to do with our esteemed hostess," Adama suggested.

They moved into the kitchen and found the coffee pot. It did not take long for them to assess how to use it. While he made the coffee, she located a few mugs and sugar along with milk. As they sat at the counter with their coffee, Roslin glanced through the doorway and noticed the door to the downstairs bedroom open.

"Bill, look," she pointed out quietly.

"That's General Freiberg and he's leaving the room wearing what he wore yesterday," Adama observed.

Freiberg quietly headed up the stairs and the others finished their coffee. "Now I'm certain that those two are involved," Roslin remarked.

Amelia appeared in the kitchen a short while later, exiting from the same room as Freiberg had, but she wore a pair of jeans and a rose sweater. She stopped at the coffee table to clean up the cards and then entered the kitchen, picking up one of the translating devices. "_Good morning_," she greeted.

"Good morning," Roslin returned. "I hope you don't mind, but we took the liberty of making coffee and finding a few mugs."

The American president frowned. "_I'm a terrible hostess. I'm should have set up the coffee an hour ago_."

"It's fine. We've managed to find what we need," Adama added.

Amelia proceeded to find bagels, cereal, and other choices for breakfast. "_I suppose I've gotten too used to not making my own breakfast that I forget what's needed. Usually I end up skipping it completely unless_-" she stopped suddenly, not wanting to tell them about Freiberg's habit for bringing her breakfast, "_well never mind. Do you three need anything else_?" she asked, noticing Celeste as well.

Roslin smiled politely. "I think we can manage. I couldn't help noticing the cards around the table this morning. Is it part of a card game that you play on this world?" she probed.

For a brief moment Amelia looked pale. She recovered quickly and smirked, shaking her head. "_It was simply a mess that J- the general and I forgot to clean up_."

"Don't worry. We won't mention it," Roslin commented.

At first Amelia mentally dismissed the conversation, but as she prepared a bagel for herself, she turned and realized that from the angle she stood at in the kitchen, her guests had most likely seen the general leave her bedroom. She whispered an expletive that did not translate before turning back to them. "_You saw him leave, didn't you_?"

"It's not our business," Adama remarked, seeing her embarrassment.

Amelia only needed a moment to compose herself more efficiently. "_In that case, did you two have plans for the day_?"

"Our friends are getting married and Saul's asked me to do the honors," Adama responded, finishing his coffee.

"_Let me know how I can help_," Amelia offered, watching Celeste with quiet interest as the baby made soft noises.

"Diana doesn't know," Roslin stated. She smiled at Amelia's curiosity in the baby. "Would you like to hold her?"

"_Only if you don't mind_," Amelia added quickly.

Roslin carefully handed the infant to her. "I don't mind at all, but I should warn you that she usually doesn't take to strangers."

Amelia carefully held the baby close to her, adjusting her so that she could see her mother. "_A long time ago I used to baby-sit my cousins. I was told that if the baby's looking at the mother, they're less likely to fuss. She's beautiful. I still feel terribly about having to call you at the end of your trip to Hawaii_," the American president admitted.

"We understand how important government matters can be," Roslin mentioned.

Amelia was handing the baby back to Roslin when Freiberg entered the room. She immediately looked in his direction, noticing that he had changed from yesterday's clothes into a blue flannel shirt and jeans. "_Madame President, may I join you all for breakfast_?" he asked politely, attempting for her sake not to reveal anything.

She walked over toward him and handed him a mug of coffee. He glanced at the guests and then back to her. "_They saw the mess of cards we left, and they noticed you leave this morning. There's no need to pretend around them_," she relayed.

He grinned and looked only at her. "_Then nobody's going to mind if I do this_," he said before wrapping his free arm around her waist and kissing her warmly.

Blushing, she cleared her throat. "_Apparently they plan to marry their friends today, and since one of them doesn't know, we have a lot of work to do setting this up as discreetly as possible_."

"_Have I ever been indiscreet when it mattered_?" he whispered in her ear. She chuckled and shook her head in response.

A few minutes later Diana and Tigh wandered down. "Don't tell me we're late. All I want is some coffee and somethin' to eat," Diana began.

"_You're right on time. We are all having breakfast_," Amelia mentioned.

Tigh got a mug for himself and Diana. "Madame President," he began, speaking to Amelia, "thanks for letting us stay here like this. You don't know how long it's been since I heard birds in the morning," he remarked.

Diana smirked. "You asked me 'what the hell was makin' that noise' when we woke up. Saul, there are days when your memory's rustier than my ship's hull," she teased.

He glared at her, but then kissed her on the cheek. "My memory's fine but your hearing needs work," he goaded her. "I think I was referring to that thing they make coffee with here."

She put her hands on her hips and looked back at him over her shoulder. "Only you would hear the coffee maker all the way upstairs."

The plan to keep Diana distracted was Roslin's idea. Having Diana watch Celeste kept her occupied and the baby did not fuss the entire time. Preparations for the wedding consisted of Freiberg and Adama bringing out a few folding chairs to the backyard, Roslin and Amelia heading into town for flowers, and Tigh setting up a make-shift lattice arch. By noon everything was ready.

Roslin came upstairs where Diana had just put Celeste to bed. Tigh followed the president and waited for a moment. "Thank you for watching her," Roslin conveyed with a smile.

"I told you it's no problem. She's a good baby and I like watching her," Diana replied.

Tigh stepped over to Diana. "You said you wanted to get married while we're here. How does today sound?"

"You just pullin' my leg, or do you mean it?" she questioned.

"While you were babysitting, we were setting up for it," he mentioned.

Diana grinned broadly and threw her arms around his neck. "You rascal, I should've known you were up to somethin'. Of course I wanna get married today," she exclaimed.

Only wanting to wear a dress uniform instead of a dress, Diana stood by the arch with Saul. The setting and the flowers were in the Earth style, but the vows were in the Colonial language. Amelia explained that at the end the bride throws the bouquet behind her. Roslin sat with Celeste along with Amelia and Freiberg as they watched the ceremony. The baby behaved until the end. She started to squirm when Adama told Tigh that he could kiss the bride.

As the ceremony ended, the American president glanced down to brush a beetle off her foot. "_Amelia, look up_," Freiberg instructed.

"_What_?" she asked as she lifted up her hands. The bouquet landed in her hands and the general chuckled.

"_You do realize that this is as good as fate_," she teased.

"_I hope so_," he remarked, kissing her on the cheek.

It would be seven years until Amelia and Freiberg were able to follow through with fate. Roslin walked home from the communications station where she had taken a personal call from the former American president. The way home still had bushes and lizard-like creatures that scuttled over the paths. The Colonials had managed to make a go of living on this new planet, undomesticated as it was, and the local creatures did not seem to mind. When she reached the front door of the house built with materials from one of the gutted freighters, she found that Adama had already come home with their daughter.

"Mommy!" the girl exclaimed as soon a she spotted Roslin. The six-year-old ran into Roslin's arms and the woman scooped the girl up for a moment.

"You do realize that you're almost too heavy for this," she responded, walking over to the couch where Adama sat.

Child still in her lap, Roslin sat next to her husband. Celeste's hair was a sandy brown, almost blonde color. Her eyes matched her father's as she looked between him and her mother. "Mommy guess what we did today," the girl prompted.

Roslin and Adama kissed softly before she turned back to her daughter. "What did you do?"

"Daddy took me to work today. I got to see the people training and then we watched the ships that got to look at the land. I got to see where Hera's and Hermes' parents work, and I also saw Alex Tigh's dad. Mommy, Alex is still taller than me. When do I get to be taller than him?" the girl questioned as she fidgeted.

Setting the girl on the couch next to her, Roslin answered. "Boys and girls grow differently. You may hit a growth spurt where you are taller than him for a while, but he will probably end up taller than you. I'm glad you had a good day."

"I'm gonna go play outside. Maybe I'll see a four-legged rug," Celeste stated.

Roslin chuckled as the girl headed out into the backyard. "She's been hanging around Aunt Diana too much."

Adama grinned. "At least Celeste didn't say 'them four-legged rugs' this time."

"So how did your day go? She seemed to enjoy 'Take Your Child to Work Day,'" Roslin mentioned.

"I was worried that she'd want to be a viper pilot, so I directed her attention to our surveying projects. It's bad enough that Lee tries to tell her all about flying. You'd think that with three of his own children, he'd be trying to teach them to fly instead of pestering his sister. We've almost finished with the south east continent. Then we'll have surveyed the whole planet. How was the Quorum?" he inquired, intertwining his fingers with hers.

Roslin sighed and moved closer to him. "Some days I miss being president, but it really was someone else's turn. It's strange meeting with them as the Head of the Education Committee, but the meeting went well. Margaret doesn't mind not being in politics anymore. She seems to enjoy teaching science to the elementary school children. After the meeting I stopped by the relay station to see if there were any messages from Amelia and Jay."

"We haven't heard anything from them since her term ended and they elected another female president, a married one this time. Did she have any news?" he inquired with curiosity.

Roslin smiled broadly and showed him a printout of the message she had received. "Those two are finally getting married and they want us to be there."

Adama looked over the note. "Looks like she plans to stay out of politics for a while and go back to working with colleges too. It's a good thing that the new administration still wants to keep him on as the Secretary of Defense."

"I still can't believe that it's been seven years since we've rebuilt our lives on this planet," Roslin commented, leaning back against the couch.

Adama slid an arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. "I think we started to rebuild our lives when you and I got married."

From outside, Roslin heard Celeste call out. "Mommy, Alex got me wet with the hose again! Where's our hose so I can get him back?"

Her mother laughed heartily and kissed Adama affectionately. "I agree. And we'd better go out and stop those two before his parents come home and find their patio wet again. I swear, the babysitter they hired lets that boy run amok as long as he's outside."

Adama chuckled and they stood. "This will probably last only until they're old enough to date."

"Oh deities, one problem at a time please! I finally got used to letting her go to school," Roslin remarked as they headed outside just in time to see their daughter drench the black-haired boy next door, as well as the patio yet again.

Fin……..

(Yes, I borrowed the title of this chapter from Shakespeare's "All's Well That Ends Well." I'm sorry that the last chapter took so long. A shoulder injury made typing more cumbersome. This story has been so much fun to write. I hope my OC's have been fun too. I truly appreciate your reviews because they are one of the things that makes a story worth writing. My thanks to Stargatecrazy, miss mcGonagle, carolann, Mariel3, and Kiyani for reviewing :D)


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